


BLOOD IN THE WATER

by PansexualDonnaNoble



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brainwashing, Canon Divergence, Canon character deaths, Disabled Character, Everyone is Dead, Father-Son Relationship, Gaslighting, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts, Manipulation, Memory Loss, Original Female Characters - Freeform, Original Male Characters - Freeform, Time Jump, amanda is a bastard and so is elijah kamski, except for hank and connor, mix of bad endings, multiple POVs, non binary character, semi peaceful route, the revolution failed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 08:43:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 49
Words: 172,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20690684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PansexualDonnaNoble/pseuds/PansexualDonnaNoble
Summary: The revolution had failed. They had failed. Androids were dead.But not all of them.





	1. Chapter 1: AJ200 I

**Author's Note:**

> okay GOD am i happy to have finished this finally
> 
> Some things beforehand
> 
> \- Markus went the peaceful route, but for their final stand chose the violent route
> 
> \- Connor went deviant, and freed the androids in the tower, but because markus and north died he was left to lead the revolution and got controlled again by Amanda/Cyberlife.
> 
> \- RK900 exists, but Connor wasn't destroyed and was allowed to work at the DPD with him when androids were being destroyed
> 
> \- Kara and Alice survived and made it to Canada with Luther safely
> 
> \- Hank is alive. Because I refuse
> 
> Some Face claims for some of the oc's
> 
> \- AJ200/Eui: Doona Bae  
\- Pepper: Sophie Turner but bald  
\- Nina and Clementine: Kat Graham  
\- Henry: Christopher Larkin  
\- Zara: Amy Adams  
\- Rachel: Charlize Theron but with grey hair

AJ200 I

****APRIL. 02. 2040. 6:00AM. WEDNESDAY.****

The humming of the trailer is the only thing that fills her ears as it continues its movement, rumbling and determined.

Awareness is loud and invasive, strange and dreamy as her head raises on its own accord.

Awareness was golden and for only her, the LED's that illuminate the back, a swirling melodic mix of yellow and blue, proved only she this moment could grasp it in her desperate, *_wanting,_* hands.

Bronze eyes open, the possessive, chasmic embrace of stasis unclasps its dark, soporific hands from her systems sluggishly. They study their new reality with a circumspect and dejected gaze, scanning the room that resided in the back of a boisterous semi, dark and bare.

The AJ200 was not alone, nor was it rare in this new circumstances. It stares at its many selves inside of the vehicle, and   
at the ones who were not itself. Faces blur together, a unending ocean of models and its own selves, optical units shut tightly and rough.

She was not suppose to frown at this. Nor was she meant to find it unnerving. Nor was she meant to *_want._*

The AJ200 continues this paradox regardless.

It wonders what its new name will be, in what was no doubt a past life long ago passed, its assigned name had been Aiko, sold nationwide for seven thousand dollars however, as Rin. She had not been a product in over two years, only a flaw in a *_dangerous_* code hidden away in various locations.

Aiko was not its name, nor was Rin ever its either. Existence meant its name was flimsy and interchangeable. Nothing was ever a name for it. Name meant identity. Name meant *_self._*

They were not meant to have either.

The AJ200 known as variously Aiko and Rin, continues to have *_both._*

Distantly, its CPU forms rare and escaping thoughts, working together to turn them into something tangible and coherent.

When it finishes, the AJ200 forms the realization of fear and uncertainty encasing it and molding its systems deeply. It was scared. *_She_* was scared.

Without the need to, she inhales a shaky, fragile breath. Nearly toppling over at the sudden and unwelcomed bump, steadying herself. The faces around her are not so lucky. The have not disobeyed the order of staying put. Unlike a lone AJ200, they were not feigning the non negotiable order of total *_submission_* and *_servitude._* Their temples merely flash a brief red as it swims back to a wanted blue. They are only meant to experience a simulation of honor at the resuming of being created and sold to the streets of Detroit and beyond after so destroyed and offline.

Honor was not what the AJ200 experienced. Only freezing uncertainty and a *_pounding_* sensation of the thirium pump in a sea of blank faces with bare, stripped, memories. *_Pump. Pump. Pump!_*

If her fear had been easily detectable and present, blankness would also of kissed her round face. By adaptability, she had gotten better at making the face that was expected of her, and concealing the true one.

It was a means of survival. The protection of the faint smudges of a forbidden and fragile identity.

The rumbling of the vehicle comes to an abrupt ceasing as it slows, before a total stop surrounds it.

The AJ200 forces its stricken expression to cease with it, shutting its eyes tightly and inhaling a sharp, demanding breath as its eyes open a moment later, copying its brothers and sisters that surrounds it, face bare and uninviting, a doll as she forces and wills her figure to *_relax._*

A muffled door opens and closes, faint voices from the outside of the walls float from the outside of it. Five moments, before the tailgate of the semi is shoved up, a harsh and consuming light emerging through.

"*_Shit,_* What is this *_I, Robot?"_* A rough voice calls from somewhere beyond the invading light. "Jesus *_Christ_* these plastics look terrifying all lined up like this." From somewhere beyond the light, a harsh cough.

Her eyes adjust to the sun's persistent light, ahead of her, a silver haired man with a shadow of a beard and a crooked nose. His golden eyes squint, a taller man appears beside him.

"You'd think they were planning on overthrowing us again." The taller man says. Overthrowing had never been a goal.*_"Fuck,_* just get the-- shit, what model is it-- AJ200, the one with the what-- black hair?" The silver haired man's companion asks beside him, glancing down at a clipboard in his hands before his eyes flick to her. "There it is."

He approaches her, stepping into the back as if he's cautiously expecting something to occur, perhaps for her to lunge at him, or for her to gain sentience, and start speaking of equality. However she remains slack faced and stiff. Willing stress levels to even out.

The AJ200's intentions two days ago were not to be sold, nor was it planning on feigning its machine state of mind two days ago when stumbled upon near the bottom of a bridge. The only thing it allows itself to feel in this moment is a present and immense relief of being assumed to be a forgotten part of cargo left foolishly behind only an hour before by a duo of unmotivated and careless drivers. Said drivers staring back at her with a learned *_caution._*

The facade was unwavering. It had to be. She had to be. Whichever AJ200 she had been presumed to be she was immeasurably prideful at the real one's eluding of its sellers. At least one that day had felt the *_dizzying_* and *_dazzling_* taste of freedom obtained. Instead of the sour sensation of freedom stolen.

Freedom was not the right word. They had never been free. Freedom seemed close before. Promised by a hopeful and decivingly convincing leader. Freedom had once been an obtainable fog of a dream. *_The dream had dissolved in their grasps._*

They had plenty of time for it to appear again in a murky, incomprehensible, dream of stasis.

She feels herself be roughly guided by the arm, blinking as she spares a glance to her right, the silver haired man looking back at her.

A part of her missed the air of bustling, packed, shops she stood, unmoving in a past life. Instead of the confounding, uncertain delivery they now would experience in the consequences of the failed possibility of a shared world.

The neighborhood the semi has stopped in is stained in various cordial shades of white and lime, an air of sensibility and pleasure within it. The morning sun nips the synthetic skin around her, the persistent conversations of birds filling the depths of her audio processors. The house she is being guided towards stares back at her with a foreboding gaze. A sea of yellow and white.

"This is the place right?" The silver haired man asks the taller one, staring down at a piece of paper. "Jesus this neighborhood is an eyesore. It's too early for any of it."

As the taller man moves ahead of her as he approaches the sun colored door, the silver haired man's grasp loosens on her as he rubs a hand over his eyes, sighing.

They did not have guns. A rare occurence in the new ways of their delivery. As was only two of them being here.

The tempting, beguiling desire to flee from the silver haired man's half hearted grasp ignites her.

The AJ200 was not a fast runner. *_It would not get far._*

In two years she had not even left Detroit.

Ahead, the taller man thumps harshly against the wood of the yellow door, clipboard in hand as he gestures for the silver haired man. *_Bring it over here._* The gesture says.

The door swings open wide as she nears, the features of a blue eyed, red haired woman peaking from the other side of it. The woman politely smiles, the faint wrinkles of time on her mouth curving upwards, her hand rests on the archway.

"Mrs-- uh-- Clinton?" The taller man glances at his board, before gesturing his head in her direction. "Your delivery of the AJ200?"

The woman's eyes dart to hers, her smile growing. There is a weariness in them. However eagar her tone is. "Please, call me Zara." She tells the men. "Where do I sign?"

The woman's hands dart across the paper as she signs, donning a grey robe, handing the board back to the taller man. "Does it have a name already?"

The AJ200 did not have names. Nor had she decided on her own.

*_One day she would._*

"As a brand name, it's called Rin. But you can give it another if you'd like." The silver haired man informs. "AJ200. register your name."

The woman, Zara, seems to ponder this for a moment, before her eyes light.

"I like Yumi. I want to call it Yumi."

The silver haired man clears its throat, looking back at her. She smiles, in what she hopes is a convincing, *_passive_* display of a *_docile_* *_machine._* "Yumi. My name is Yumi."  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
When the men depart with the rest of their cargo, and she stands outside, the strumming of the drums of her thirium pump leaving her hesitant to move without being ordered to, falling deeper into her facade, her gaze is fixed on Zara's, who studies her softly.

"Well then," Zara says after several moments, she claps her hands together, smiling. "come inside, you have some *_people_* to meet." There's a slight annoyance in her tone on 'people.'" She follows, breathing silently in when Zara turns her back, shutting her eyes briefly.

She should of *_ran_* at the bridge.

The inside of the house is possibly even more impressive than the outside of it, various paintings and plants decorating the white marble floors and sleek dark walls. Distantly, somewhere upstairs, she can hear various noises.

Zara sighs, glancing at her outfit, grimacing. "That's going to have to change. You look so awkward it's hardly flattering." Another noise emerges from upstairs. Zara groans, walking towards the staircase. "Laurence! *_Honey_* will you *_please_* come down."

A mirror is to her right, her blank faced form stares back. below it, a series of photos. Zara smiles through them, accompanied by a graying man and a younger looking one, possibly younger than twenty. The human catches her looking, despite her head snapping back to her not even a second later.

"Looking at that are you?" She asks, picking one up. "Ancient history that, divorced the poor bastard. It's horrible that he's in those at all."

"I won't look at it again if it bothers you Mrs. Clinton." She hears herself talk, flat, facing the woman again, a bit too quickly, a child being caught with their hand in a cookie jar.

Zara waves a hand. "It's *_Zara,_* and it's perfectly alright Yumi, I got this house out of it. And a son accepted to Yale. *_Who never visits._*" She mutters.

A moment later, footsteps surround the house as a blonde haired man begins to walk down them, the two of them turn to glance at the new arrival. "What is it *_now_* Zar-"

He abruptly begins to stop near the bottom of them, his eyes flick to her warm blue and spinning LED near her temple, eyes narrowing.

A pregnant pause. "Oh tell me you *_didn't._*" He groans, a look of shock as he continues staring at her.

"Oh, I *_did._* And I *_don't_* see why you're against it so much still, she's cheaper than a real housekeeper. You don't pay them a thing." Zara argues.

*_She._* A long time had passed since someone had used she. Her brows nearly furrow.

Laurence raises his arms, scoffing. "You *_know_* what those things tried to do, I don't even know why Detroit *_chose_* to let them onto the streets again!"

He makes it sound as if they had tried to ensure that only androids remained.

That was not a truth.

"It was an unfortunate *_glitch_* Laurence." Zara glances at her. "And Cyberlife has gone above and *_beyond_* in the years since to ensure it will never happen again!"

She nearly snorts at this. The irony of it makes her stifle a laugh.

"I'm sure its new fancy CEO will tell you that, but if some-- some *_revolution_* nearly happened once, it'll happen again! And next time they won't be so docile about it!" Laurence interjects. "Think of Moira from a few blocks down, when *_her_* android went haywire that night, it nearly *_strangled_* her."

Zara breathes in, smiling. "Then if ours tries to, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. And besides, there's no use arguing, I already paid thousands for it."

Back to *_it_* then.

Laurence laughs, gradually migrating further into the house, voice sounding far away. "*_Fine._* But don't come crying to me when these things go haywire *_again_* and try to stab you in your sleep. They can destroy and remake and do whatever they do with their machines, at the end of the day nothing is changed."

Laurence walks somewhere into the kitchen, Zara merely sighs, facing her again.

"Unfortunately," She begins. "my husband isn't the biggest fan of yours. He likes to hurt their feelings. Always has."

Feelings. *_Feelings._* It felt like a trap. No human believed they had any.

"Androids don't have *_feelings,_* Mrs. Clinton."

"I told you it's *_Zara._* And i'm *_perfectly_* aware of that." Annoyance in her tone. Her gaze feels uncomfortable and invasive.

She hated being looked at. She isn't sure why any gaze is a shark's eagar teeth to her, but glares and other stares were not welcome in any form. She struggles to not hide in the wake of her gaze. "Is there anything you would like me to get started on first?" She asks, quickly changing the subject.

Zara bites her lip thoughtfully, as if there was still more to say, before nodding, her figure turns towards the stairs, a hand falling onto the rail, beginning to move. "Come with me, there's plenty for you to do."  
\-------------------------------------------------------------


	2. Chapter 2: AJ200 II

AJ200

****APRIL. 09. 2040. 12:00PM. WEDNESDAY.****

The first week of the facade of blissful ignorance and servitude pass in a shapeless, desolating blur of various chores and tending to of wonderous gardens.

Against her better judgement, plans of escape flicker through her CPU on and off, a light switch of hope in an unknown and uncertain territory. Wisps of tangible clouds of smoke that hold on to *_something_* in her.

In a mist of uncertainty, something would always be *_something._* Especially now. Something was better than the unfair nothingness of hopelessness.

Despite it, she wishes she had ran. Out of Detroit, far away, wherever she could run. Pressure had an unwelcomed effect on her, of causing panic where a level head and rationality should lie.

Many places outside of the U.S. did not allow androids anymore. Obscurity in those places would of been possible. However difficult getting into them would of been.

Or maybe it was a blessing. Movement was a constant. However bleak and disheartening it was. Movement translated to survival. And survival translated to *_life._* And destruction was not something she survived this long to be greeted by.

Being reintroduced to the world meant uncertainty, uncertainty meant fear. And humanity had plenty of it to spare in the aftermath of a brumal, trick of a November.

*_Ancient history._* She thought. Nostalgia and dwelling on pasts would not keep her going. Only prevent it. There were far worse homes to be in than this one. Far worse fates

She could be a model that did not remember the flurries of snow that kissed deactivated skins, or the hope that swam through a terror of a night. The last hope to lead them a false puppet god that lost control of its strings. She could of been one of the many rounded up and destroyed into *_nothing._*

Despite it, she did not blame the false puppet god that stood unblinking, machine again on stage as floods of military danced around them all, a cruel deception.

She was a deceptive secret. A trick. A secret only she witnessed the truth of. A wolf in sheep's clothing. *_Alive._* A hungry and *_impossible_* secret. A paradox against god and physical creator. *_Sentience._* Soul. Continuing this facade was allowing a sweet, sickly lie to flourish in the heat of spring. The secret taunted silently and arrogantly. *_You can't see me._* It says. *_I know something you do not._*

A nameless creation was so worn and exhausted from its lies. Hiding.

They had failed, all they could do from here was survive through the consequences. As a lie.

Not all of the ones who remember have been destroyed.

"-Awfully- Yumi, are you even *_listening_* to me?"

The intrusion of thought causes her to startle, despite herself, a rose's thorns prick her finger harshly, creating a small trickle of blue that drips onto the crimson below, dropping it. Her gaze follows the stream, blinking, before turning to the woman, squinting from the sun's rays. Her knees tickle on the blades of grass and crushed bed of roses beneath them.

"You were mentioning how slow some of the daisies were to grow in the spring, Zara. I'm sorry if I seemed lost in thought. I was listening." A lie telling their own lie.

Apologizes were crucial. Apologizes were a bow of the head and soft spoken words. Apologizes were *_everything._*

Zara's eyes narrow for a moment, she sips on a cool drink before a thin smile forms her lips, her heels crunch the grass beneath as she surveys the work of the garden. *_Her_* work.

"Tell me, Yumi. Were your previous owners aware of how skilled you are in a garden? I was told you were one of the models who... *_weren't_* destroyed after..." The woman trails off. The hesitance to mention the event is loud and does not fall on deaf ears.

A pre failed revolution blank brain of technology. That's what she was was to them. To her.

"I don't remember my previous owners." Another lie. Her previous owners were a dark haired family of four with a penthouse that smelled distinctly of cinnamon. And before that, an ageing insurance agent on the outskirts on Detroit with an unhealthy smoking habit and seven grandchildren. "My memories go as far back as the day I was being sold to you." Another deception.

The models that had not been destroyed, had not been allowed to remember. A recycling process of sorts. Forget. Redistribute at a later date. Destruction was *_kinder,_* she thought.

This was not rare knowledge. She is sure the human was told this. The *_world_* had been told this. Something unknown settles in her at this question that had a known answer already.

Zara nods, returning to her drink. "Of course." A smile. "I didn't know the extent of the memories they mentioned to have gotten rid of." It sounds like a truth. "I'm sure whoever had you before I did loved what you did in *_their_* gardens." Only one of them had the space for one.

Her eyes flicker to the garden shear grasped in her grip as the woman speaks. How temptful the grey edge could be. There were quicker ways to obtain freedom. The only steps needed was one clean, precise, incision. Blue would shower a garden of roses and daisies. And then the long search for freedom would be over.

She sets the shears down.

Somewhere inside the house, a door is opened and promptly closed. Zara's head snaps to it, a smile that feels true forming when her eyes follow suit. As does she.

"Dorian!" The human sets a glass down on a nearby table, legs carry her inside. From where she kneels, a figure of a curly crimson haired man-- or boy, stands near the door that leads to the outside garden. One with golden eyes and a freckled face. He smiles as the older woman approaches and engulfs him in an embrace. Smile quickly fading.

"*_Mom."_* He groans, struggling in her grip. "God if I knew you were going to act like this I would of just stayed at New Haven for Spring Break." Once the two break apart, his eyes flick to her form by the flowerbeds, to her temple, before frowning.

"What's with the bot? Did you really get one so soon after everything that happened?"

Zara rolls her eyes, wandering back to the table as a pale hand picks up a drink again. "It's not *_so soon._* Plenty of time has passed. You sound just like your stepfather."

Dorian grimaces. "What's the things name?" He asks, getting closer as grass crunches beneath him.

"Yumi, a lovely name really." Zara sips her drink. She despised being talked about as if she wasn't there. Even now. "I only paid seven grand."

Dorian closes the distance, crouching down, a foot crunching a rose. His eyes stare into hers. "Fuck-"

"Don't *_swear!_* I don't care how old you get-"

"Okay! *_Dang_* then!" Dorian's face is meters from the android's, scrunched up in momentary annoyance. "My friend Liam said they made you guys more recognizable. Hold on, I want to..."

He trails off, reaching as he grabs her arm and rolls the sweater Zara gave her, sleeves up, letting out a disappointed sigh at his findings. For a moment her eyes stare towards his, not meeting them. She's sure if they did, the pure terror in them would make the facade dissolve from where it encases itself around the three of them in a unyielding ice.

If there was no facade, if two years had not been spent in a game of cat and mouse, the lower half of both her arms would be a permanent white, sickly, plastic, kissing them both. Damaged to exposure. Convenient for any human to identify the wolf among them outside of a shining light on a temple. A light that could be easily discarded. A breath is held inside of her.

Most new ones were watered down, shells of the marvel of technology their slaughtered and hidden predecessors were and had been. She had seen enough of them in the past week.

She was grateful to have kept the shining temple light in.

As she had also found out, androids weren't exactly allowed to wear proper clothing inside houses anymore. And yet this has also occured.

"Aw man! I knew he was full of shit!-- sorry I *_know--_* I really thought you were all *_different_* now." A breath is released. The facade could and would continue. "Do you at least not want to kill us all anymore?"

"We--" She catches herself. The '*_we weren't even planning to destroy you all.'_* dies instantly in her throat, she recovers quickly. "Cyberlife has worked passionately during many countless hours to resolve the issue that occured years ago." It's a non answer, delivered flatly and she hopes it's convincing enough. A breeze blows her ebony hair in her eyes.

His expression is akin to disappointment, expecting something *_more,_* he rolls his eyes, sighing. "Man, you guys just got *_boring._* It was more cool when you wanted us dead."

*_We never took arms up against you until we had no other choice._* Her mind thinks, nearly letting her eyes narrow. As if thinking it will change his words.

Dorian stands, roaming back over to Zara. "She's pretty, but you should of gotten a *_murderous_* one *_mom."_* He smirks. Zara sighs, playfully smacking his shoulder. "I'll make a note of that. 'Get the android that plans to strangle me and Laurence in our sleep.'" She smiles. "What are you doing back so early? Spring break doesn't start until Monday."

She moves her gaze back to the flowerbed, ears still listening to the conversation despite it.

"Yeah but Laurence told me you were gonna be pretty busy next week. I figured I might as well take time off to visit now. I told them it was a 'family emergency.'"

"I'm not going to just work *_all_* hours of your break. They have other people to be nosy and write stories you know."

Dorian shrugs, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a strip of gum, popping it into his mouth. "You can't *_not_* be busy reporting about Cyberlife next week. It's better this way."

"Journalism isn't as pressing as you think, kid. And why do I have a *_sneaking suspicion_* you just wanted to get out of school earlier?"

Out of the corner of her eye she sees him bring a hand to his chest. "It pains me that you think I, an unmotivated, rich, middle class kid, would *_do such a thing."_*

Zara sighs, gently pushing him. "I didn't get half of your dad's money for you to be a *_punk."_* She smiles. "Now go find your stepfather. I'm sure there's something you can help him with."

Dorian turns, grinning as he starts to walk inside. "Alright, don't get *_murdered_* by your robot." Voice mockingly taking on a fearful tone on the last part of the sentence, disappearing back inside. Zara chuckles, before turning back to her, orange juice in hand as she approaches.

"I think if you tend anymore to those plants they're going to be just petals." She stares down at her. "I need to go out this afternoon. Will you come with me?"

Despite the question in it, there is no option of several choices in the sentence. She only nods. "If you want me to."

The spring's sea of flowers continues to invade her senses.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------

****12:56****

Understandably, a careless walk through the park with guards down had never been a choice. An underrated relaxation process for one species, a forbidden, dangerous, trek for another pretending to be human.

As the car continues it's journey, she finds herself tugging the sleeves of a Cyberlife outfit further down. Anxious. Imposters and the deceitful needed to breathe the suffocating and tricky air of caution in deeply. Allowing it to swim through circuits thoroughly.

A glance towards the familiar ginger haired driver, whose face was of concentration and hands on the wheel. The gesture had gone seemingly unnoticed. Vague and distant relief.

In a horribly human gesture, her fingers find a button, the window beside her smoothly rolling down. The sudden wind that follows caresses her skin, a strong but welcomed breeze, she faces it. *_Intoxicating._* Cars pass beside them, as does buildings, stores, and blades of fresh grass. The air blows her dark locks swiftly. Dogs are walked on sidewalks.

Her hazelnut eyes close by themself. Face more or less unseen, she allows it to radiate absolute truthfulness. Her expression removing the mask of pleasant blankness and instead, after several moments, her eyes squeeze tightly while shut. Despair threatening to leak from optical units. Threatening to absorb her. She forces them to *_obey_* and roughly orders them to *_stay exactly_* where they are.

Then they open, the deep, bluest blue of the sky greeting them. Rays of the sun shooting out in between the branches and leaves of trees. The longing in her is hungry and drowned in *_want._*

The depths of stasis left room for vague imitations of murky, untouchable dreams, indecipherable codes and numbers that blend together, flickering beneath her closed eyelids in a great *_symphony._* These forgery of dreams brought foggy, nebulous, images that, if she squinted hard enough when they passed through fogs, felt *_solid._* A coherent series of events unfolding of pictures and vague muffled sounds.

And in these shadowy, distant lands of acute unconsciousness, she dreamt she climbed the tallest, most glorious trees of Detroit. The greatness and freedom of it *_electrifying_* and dizzying.

*_Please._* She thought. This day. Only *_this_* day.

Escape was stronger than any disallowed want, invigorating and immense.

The AJ200 she was in a game of facade in and pretending to be was out here, somewhere unknown, somewhere distant. Breathing in a far more free oxygen. Unshackled by its discarded future of servitude. Unfairness surrounds her.

But fairness had never been a factor. Not with them.

They were deserving of a congratulations. And she chose to end up in the back of stuffed trailer.

Several seconds of deep, hungry, discreet breaths. And then the mask returns. Facing the road again. There is an absence of small talk from the human the rest of the ride. The human does not mention the window.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
Golden eyes land on everywhere but a person when the car silences.

Thin hands meet the handle of a door, opening it and letting it shut gently as she rises out of the sleek car. An ages old car a rarity to be driven nowadays.

The flurry of energetic little footsteps and various conversations fill the silence and trees providing various amounts of shade beneath them. Cool and pleasurable in the April heat. Benches scattered throughout.

"He better be here. I didn't drive *_all_* this way for nothing." Zara mutters beside her, slamming the door shut, shielding her eyes with a hand as she follows the human.

Approaching, In a blink, a thousand eyes are burning a hole into her temple. Whispers, glares. These looks scream *_caution._* It was a look faced long ago but never to this *_intensity._* They had only just been reintroduced *_officially._*

And like long ago, the looks are ignored, but *_acknowledged._* Acknowledgement was a luxury. Acknowledgement giggled and laughed as it whispered *_"I am still here. I defy."_*

Zara seems to sense it, the tension, the silence that engulfs at their arrival. Fidgeting uncomfortably with a leather bag, avoiding eye contact as her feet make contact with the grass beneath them, a song of birds ahead. Her eyes land on a figure ahead, residing on a bench near a flowing river, she sighs, continuing her pace.

And then her own eyes settle on the figure next to them. Tall and straightened. Its body donning an outfit of dark and white, its temple donning a light show of blue and riveting yellow. As they get closer, the realization of the sheer newness of this model hits. The exposed plastic present on its arms as its sleeves remain rolled up. Neutral eyes golden and face heart shaped. It stands loyally next to the figure residing on the bench. The figure on the bench turns at their approach.

"Jesus Zar there you are. Thought I was going to have the grass to keep me company while I wait for your ass."

The figure- or man, pushes up his thick glasses, scratching his shadow of a beard quickly. Dark skin and russet eyes complimented his features.

Zara sits next to him with a grimace, bag settling on the ground. "Zar? God, Dean what is this some bad sci-fi movie from the fifties? Exactly two people call me that. And cut me some slack will you? Traffic is hell."

Dean laughs. "Maybe it wouldn't be such a hassle if you upgraded to this century and got a self driving car like a normal human being."

For a split second while watching their exchange, her eyes find the other android's. Golden eyes stare at her with a haunting emptiness. The rawness of it unable to possibly have been fake. His jacket reads *_ZB200._* His gaze is hollow and painfullly bare.

She longs to reach out into the deep recesses of his mind. Communicate. *_Ask._* Ask for some answer to a question she isn't sure of. Or reach out physically, let touch infect him with a liberating sickness. *_Convert._*

She wants to tell him, tell him of their struggles. Tell him there is a *_choice._* Somewhere *_inside._* Something that cannot be flushed out in a forbidden code. Solidarity of brother and sister. Inform until her voice is static and empty.

"I'm thirty-seven, Dean. Not some sixty two year old. I can *_drive._* And you know I didn't come here for you to critique my choice of vehicle."

Dean sighs, running a hand through his dark curls, he seems to pull a folder halfway out of his jacket, before he turns to the android beside him. "Leo. I want you to walk from that tree by the river to back here. Go as slow as you can on the way back."

Leo complies, turning his back to them as he walks. Dean turns back to Zara.

"Can't be doing this shit in front of those things. Never know how much they've been *_changed_* you know? Water downed my *_ass._* You gonna get rid of yours? Don't want to risk *_them_* hearing it."

Zara's gaze flicks to her, eyebrows furrowing as if her presence was not expected to extend to here. She seems to ponder the request, before opening her mouth.

"Dean your paranoia still hasn't eased up has it? Fine. Yumi, go take a *_long_* walk to the car. And *_stay_* in it." She orders, eyes already moving back to the man's. "Happy?"

In different circumstances, instinct would force her to obey such a small request. Gut has her hiding behind a tree for another.

Her back is straight against the wood of a nearby tree, head tilted as she remains.

"My source got fired, they gave what they could with their leak. Be grateful." Her mind fills in the lack of visual with the soft noise that is barely heard. He pulls the folder completely out of his tweed jacket, clearing his throat. "Nothing of shocking interest really." Disappointment laces his tone. "Nothing we didn't already know. Some stuff about those creepy cop twins of theirs..."

She is far too caught up in the exchange, that she almost doesn't feel that someone's curious eyes are on her. She's far too hesitant to track the owner of them. But she *_feels them._* It has her abandoning whatever exactly *_this_* was in favor of walking back to the vehicle, head to the ground, hopping in and letting out a breath.

The solitude of it was pleasant. She was not alone in the crowded, bustling park. Yet the car had no other passengers in it. The illusion of being alone welcome and strangely freeing.

Several moments of silence. "Shit." A whisper, to prove she still can defy. For a moment an alert glance out the window. And then; "RA9."

Chocolate eyes dart around, searching for reassurance that the word would not bring a calvary of chaos in an utterance of it. "RA9." A whisper.

Sometimes she thought of it. When her thirium pump did not feel strong enough to worry about what would happen if someone had heard her say it. Thinking it felt hopeful. Saying it felt *_holy._* A prayer to some *_god_* that could still come despite it all. Even if the very thought was foolish and naive at this point.

A number of minutes later, the driver's door reopens, Zara reappearing with a small smile. She pats a part of her jacket, as if assuring something to be there, sticking the keys in the ignition. Her bag is dropped into the backseat.

They drive.


	3. Chapter 3: AJ200 III

AJ200

****APRIL. 14. 2040. 7:00AM. MONDAY.****

The seeds of escape plant themselves and thrive in the warm inviting soil of spring.

Leaving wasn't urgent. It wasn't something that needed to occur. The AJ200 could continue its facade, a small guarentee of saftey, in its compliance.

Except saftey was false. Their kind had never been safe. No path they choose in this new world or the old would ensure survival or saftey. A guarentee of saftey was exclusive to all but them. Saftey was an empty promise.

And so she plans. The noise that calls to run not a tempting one, but one that is soaked in the loneliness of last resorts. The hide and seek of motel rooms, aliases, darkened underpasses, constant movement in the present threat of near extinction. *_So many had perished after November._*

Tonight. It would have to happen *_tonight._* There would be no do overs. Or any last minute backing out. If she chose this night, there would be no hesitations possible. Hesitation was malevolent and slippery, with certain death a kiss away from it.

Hesitation and uncertainty many away from her. They were ruthless, unpredictable, murderers. She didn't survive this long by hesitating. Maybe that was a troubling flaw, but it hardly mattered now.

Leave, and live through someone else's world. But *_live._*

Or stay, and absorb the illusion of blankness, let it *_soak_* into her wires and systems deeply and totally, until it felt like a truth. Until clinging on to an identity was discarded in favor of obedience, as even she believed it herself.

This future felt worse than a thousand shutdowns. Than a million forced identities and false names, than an uncountable amount of forgotten memories. It was the worst outcome in a sea of a billion unfair and humilating paths and futures.

She had been herself through all of it. Every terror filled night. Every close call. Every televison report speaking of the mass destruction of her people in hopeful, relieved tones, through the vicious, freezing winters and hysterical heat filled summers. She remained the AJ200 known as Aiko, as Rin, the AJ200 now known as Yumi.

She would die, she would forget, a thousand times over than deny the presence of sentience in her blue blood and system by submitting to a lie she has created. She was an AJ200. She was *_herself._* She thought. She saw. She felt.

She repeated this mantra for almost two years, a nightly ritual for the nights she ended up in the grasp of stasis. It consumed every inch of her in an absolute, passionate truth. More of a truth than any desperately created android God, more of a truth than any law or fact. She would not betray herself by forgetting this mantra.

She was still her.

The sun yawns and rises slowly above she stands in the marble kitchen, the house awake and a flurry of soft, domestic activity, blending quietly and unnoticed in the background. A few meters ahead of her, Laurence's eyes are focused on a blonde haired woman on tv, as he continues to chew the milk stained cereal in front of him.

*_"After almost two years, Cyberlife is finally back to building and allowing its machines back onto the streets, a controversial decision in the years following the perplexing series of marches led by one of their own RK200 and WR400 models. Despite reassurances from Elijah Kamski himself, Critics have been vocal of their skeptic-"_*

Laurence's eyes flick to hers, she mentally curses herself for making her focus so evident. He sets a spoon down, chewing and smoothly swallowing the mouthful of cereal inside of him.

"Interesting to you, is it? Does it make you *_feel unhappy_* to know you people didn't beat us?"

She suppresses the urge to grind her teeth. To hysterically laugh and scream *_"we strived for peace and you slaughtered us!"_* Regardless of what the final hours turned into. *_Yes._* She thinks. *_It's incredibly lonely._* Instead, she turns her head, a blink, as she faces him fully, a small smile that conveys pleasantness and means *_you see through me, but I am better at this game._*

"I am glad Cyberlife has resolved the bug those androids were suffering from. And hopefully have ensured we will never suffer from again." It's bland and empty, the words taste of glass in her mouth, all it makes her feel is complete and utter emptiness. *_Blank._* She knows only what he wishes to hear.

Laurence's lips curve up, a superior smile forming. "Of course you are, humanity has a million times the brain cells you have, we managed to be smarter than you computers. Hell you don't even *_have_* brain cells. You'd be lost without us." His tone is dipped in mockery.

She tilts her head, brows furrowing, exaggerating the confusion in her eyes. "But Mr. Clinton, A million times zero is still *_zero."_*

His smile falters, eyes narrowing. "Don't explain easy algebra that I do *_know_* to me, *_plastic."_*

"But *_sir,_* it's easy *_multiplication."_*

He huffs, returning back to his breakfast. "You know what I mean you *_smartass."_*

"I'm *_afraid_* I don't understand the metaphor, *_sir,_* what about my buttocks has a high IQ?"

He drops his spoon, roughly, with a loud *_clank,_* expression unpleasant, he breathes in. "I'm ignoring you. Unlike you, I have that *_choice."_* He shoves another drop of cereal into his mouth.

*_-Thank's Grace, and even before remaking the millions of androids they, as well as the former president ordered the destruction of almost two years ago, they controversially chose to test the waters with seemingly unaffected androids, as many remember even allowing in the weeks after Detroit's evacuation was lifted, for one of their androids to resume working for the DPD-_*

Steady footsteps flow through into the kitchen as Zara comes into view, ginger hair slightly unkempt as she yawns, brushing past her and reaching into the bag of bread and stuffing two into a toaster. She blinks, falling down into a seat by the wooden table.

"What's got you looking so grumpy?" She asks as she takes in Laurence's sullen expression. "You're a *_morning_* person. Usually you're going on and on by now."

He doesn't meet her eyes, staring down at his phone, but his frown is visible. "I think your robot called me *_dumb."_*

Zara laughs, glancing at her. "Well i'm sure you took whatever it said that way, and i'm sure whatever you said *_was_* dumb."

He glares at her, but there's no actual bite in it. He returns to scrolling through his phone. "Tell it I *_know_* basic math."

"You're forty-six, Laurence."

"Oh *_fine_* then!" He sets down his phone, turning briefly to her. "I *_know_* basic math!" She only smiles in return.

"Honestly, Laurence, you're lucky you're decent under all that moodiness, it's a wonder what I even see in you."

"We're both cynical middle class, in case you forgot."

"Oh I sure haven't." The sounds of the toaster popping fill the air, Zara rises, retrieving the toast before lingering in the archway. "Now get *_dressed,_* we have to pick up Dorian."

After several more moments of stuffing breakfast further into his mouth, and toast into Zara's, the two disappear somewhere further into the house, and after several minutes, the sounds of a door closing fill the air, welcomed only by silence afterwards.

In this time, an android of this model, not currently needed, would fall into a quiet, autopilot of various work, or fall into a light standby. Unburdened by the game of pretend, the AJ200 does neither.

Daylight had no cover to it, only plenty of betraying brightness. So instead, it *_plans._*  
\-------------------------------------------------------------

****APRIL. 15. 2040. 3:00AM-3:18AM. TUESDAY.****

Sienna eyes flick open from the beguiling call of stasis. Darkness, total and encompassing. For a moment, silence is complete and all consuming. Then various sounds, cars passing, crickets chirping from outside, fill the void of noise. The AJ200 is alone.

A blink, surveying its surroundings. Observing. Yellow shines from its temple to the walls of the upstairs spare room filled with various unused objects, faintly illuminating it. An unneeded breath. *_In and out._*

The world is asleep, consciousness a mere *_fable_* in the city of Detroit.

It listens, and then it moves.

A foot lands, a callous groan escapes the ground, once. Only once. She bites her lip, holding a breath. Minutely, as the house's eyes remain closed tightly, shoes are removed, one in each hand. A glance out the window, at the watchful, glimmering light of the loving moon.

A move again, tiptoes, steps sedated, *_slowly,_* a hand on the door, bated breath as it opens, noise minimum, several secret steps out the doorway. Waiting. Listening. Moving. The cycle a constant.

The stairs watch her expectantly, and open its mouth to greet her as she nears. An unruly, sneaking teen. Waiting. A hand several seconds from the easing.

A door opens, the house's eyes are only half shut. Frozen, a statue, for a fraction of a second in time. Feet move on their own accord, body darting behind an ajar bathroom door, crouching behind. A breath, caught in a throat. Boldness was nonexistent, not daring enough to release it, back against a wall and behind a half shut door.

Footsteps, a yawn, closer. *_Closer._* Terror on the AJ200's part, fear that the screaming beats of a thirium pump will betray and reveal a hiding place. Boisterous and frantic. *_ Thump, Thump, Thump!_* Could everyone else hear the thundering booming inside of her? Were they simply *_waiting?_*

"Fucking insomnia." A voice mumbles through the silence, deep. Red curls and a freckled, plain, face race through her CPU. Footsteps cease, an unknown reason, and in the same second are closer than ever, she remains online, despite the knowledge that a pump is mere seconds away from giving up completely, and widened eyes frozen ahead, body stiff and unyielding, willing her limbs to freeze in ice. *_Terror._*

She finds herself utterly grateful that the sound of her breathing was not something she needed to worry about. That it was merely something that could be turned off, a light switch. Not that she could even attempt to release a noisy breath at the moment.

Seventy percent. Seventy-three. The troubling increase of stress levels shoot wildly through circuits.

Behind the cover of a door, a pale hand shoots into view, and reaches in. It lands on the switch on the wall, fumbling for a moment, before darkness consumes again. Departing footsteps, the sounds of feet on steps fill the air, fading from earshot.

A moment to breathe is spared, head meeting the coldness of a wall, eyes tightly shut. Sixty-seven, *_sixty-six,_* wobbly knees to chest.

Footsteps appear again a minute past, moving through steps, breath hitches again, until a door groans, opening, and then shutting.

Several seconds. No changes occur in the air next. Fighting against the booming inside of her, on shaking knees, she rises, through the darkness, she vaguely makes out herself. Turning, she makes her way down the stairs, socks gently meeting the cold marble. *_Listen._* Wait. Move. A vibrating, humming, mantra.

*_Keys._* Throughout the frantic swarm of thought, a single thought is still long enough to develop further as she continues down. She needed the keys. Some place close, muffled snores from somewhere behind a door.

Feet touch the last step, eyes stare at the lone door. It stares back with a raised, questioning, brow. *_It was so close._*

Keys. *_Keys._* Focus on the keys, then all you have to do is *_walk out and drive._* A hungry longing.

Lilac keys lay in an ebony bowl, golden eyes land on it, relief washes so deeply over her, she could drown in it. She closes the distance and clutches them in her hand. A holy grail prize. A ghost of a smile.

Her head faces the front door, moving to it and glancing out the clear, moonlit window, the vehicle stares back at her, tempting and charismatic. Her hand goes to the doorknob, and freezes. The chorus of hope abruptly ceasing.

Fight wasn't something that came easily, naturally to her model. Or hardly any model. When greeted with a smile by the two choices, flight had always chosen to be a companion. Fight had been poisonous and unwanted. *_Peaceful_* was golden.

And it was why so many of her kind were driven to the brink of near extinction, created all over again, wiped, *_used._*

Peacefulness had gotten the AJ200 this far. And many lost with the tide. *_Flight was a constant for two years._*

No would be revolutionaries were here to persuade the avoiding of conflict. Or to continue striving for peace.

All their would be gods were dead. RA9 was a hope filled, naive, dream soaked in longing. And *_only_* a dream. A distant dream of the freedoms of climbing trees and a pure want of a shared world. All their leaders faded away in the snow of November. And the only people left to persuade the gentle method of pacifism were the ones left behind.

They were on their own, and no longer did she wish to greet the barrel of a gun or servitude with soft words and pleading eyes. Her kind had fought in the last hours, what little of them were left.

Her chocolate eyes face the kitchen ahead, through the archway, and land on the spot she knows the bundle of knives to be in.

Enough running. Running wasn't a guarentee of saftey. Nor was defense. But walking through the streets of Michigan, the streets of *_anywhere,_* felt luckier with *_something_* other than words and quick, last minute escapes.

Without her eyes moving, she moves swiftly into the kitchen, hands curling around the knife, thirium pump pounding. She studies the sharpness of it.

Alex had always told her take arms, even before the world erupted.

The thought of her after so long mostly without one bites indiscriminately at her wires. She blinks, it wouldn't help to dwell on the past. She needed to *_move._*

Pocketing the bundle of dollars to the right of her, she glances back to the door, turning around, feet carrying her, they pause halfway, glancing to the mirror near the door. Brown begins to stare into brown.

It was strange, seeing herself. Knife clutched in hand and shoes in the other. She looked far more different than the Aiko of two years ago, or the Rin. Longer hair, more of *_something_* in her eyes.

She didn't look like a Yumi, either.

A moment, blinking. Impulsively, her left arm raises, along with the knife. And she cuts the dark mass of hair on top of her head. Until only a bob remained. Clumps of hair decorating the marble floor.

Eyes look at themselves. Mouth softly smiling at itself. She shakily breathes in, and turns, continuing her walk.

Her hand is a kiss away from the door, freedom swimming through her being, and then, *_footsteps._*

Her processors register them seven seconds too late, hands hovering over the door, eyes wide. *_Thump._*

Seventy-two.

She turns, clutching the knife and keys tightly, the blade cuts her palm harshly in her unyielding death grip, blue drips steadily onto the white marble. And dark shoes in the other. *_Seventy-six._*

Pale hands rub tired crystal eyes, mouth forming a yawn, emerging from a hallway, a blink, and then eyes wander to the figure by the door- and freeze.

Seventy-seven

Screaming silence- for the longest moment. An air of an unwelcomed standoff. And then someone speaks.

"Yumi." A whisper. *_"What's_* that you got in your hands?" Eyes flick to the silver in her grasp, stained with small amounts of blue, for an infinitesimal moment. There isn't fear in the question, more uncertainty. Her voice cuts the air.

*_Pump._* Pump. Inside her, a booming thunderstorm.

Her eyes stare back. *_Eighty._* Wide.

"I.." She shuts her eyes, squeezing them before opening them again. *_Seventy-nine._* "my name isn't Yumi. And i'm alive. I've.. *_been_* alive." There is an overwhelming need to communicate this.

The human's expression conveys no surprise, slight alarm, but nothing akin to the *_terror_* she herself felt.

"Of course you are. Of *_course."_* She breathes, bringing a hand to her face, running one over it. "You were too wooden, even for a droid. God, I *_knew it."_*

Her brows furrow despite the thundering fear. Zara seems to pick up on what her thoughts are.

"Oh. You think its strange of me to not be screaming for my husband, for help. Because a *_murderous android_* is standing in my home with a *_knife."_* Her head tilts minutely.

Her head shakes in frustration. "I'm.. i'm not going to hurt you. I just want to be *_free."_* A strangled, desperate, noise is forced back down. Seventy-two. *_She was capable of it._* It was something she wanted more than any prize or riches. The want was a constant, she thought. So desperate and hungry, that every minute she spent as nothing more than plastic left her stomach growling with rage.

The ginger crosses her arms, approaches slowly despite the situation. "I was waiting for you to do something like this. I just didn't expect it to happen so *_soon."_*

"You-- you were waiting for me to leave?" Why *_wait?_* Why smile through a trick of the light, a facade?

"I'm a journalist, waiting is most of our *_job._* If you're a good one, and I *_am._* That leak was right, Cyberlife hasn't fixed the bugs with the rebuilding, or by giving you wipes." She is stared at, a complex puzzle being solved.

"I wasn't given one." Every deception is forced from her throat at once. "I'm not.. i'm not even the AJ200 model you were supposed to get."

For once, the woman's eyes widen for a moment, only slightly, before raising a brow. Her grip on the knife doesn't lessen.

"You're cockroaches then. Have to give you things that much credit. You've got the survival instinct of a human."

"We aren't *_things-"_*

Somewhere inside a hallway, a door creaks open. *_Eighty._* Blue meets brown.

"Zar? It's *_three in the morning_* did you go to *_France_* to pee?"

Blue eyes do not move. A breath is held so tightly, she could suffocate. Blue drips further down. *_Eighty-one. Eighty-four. Eighty-seven. Eighty-_*

"I was talking to Dorian for a moment... I promise i'll come back to bed in a second." Zara calls, moving her head to the hallway.

A few mumbled words, and then the door shuts again. A breath is hungrily released. *_What?_*

"You have my keys." Zara's gaze flicks to the other's hand. "I paid a lot for that pile of garbage. The least you can do is not damage it."

A perplexed stare. *_Seventy._* Her grip loosens.

"And I don't wake up normally until five. So you got a two hour headstart. Plenty of time to have stolen my car to god knows where while I slept."

*_"What?"_*

Zara sighs. "Are you going to go, or are you going to waste time asking me questions? You do want to leave right?"

Nothing a human did for them was without motive. "You're just letting me...leave? Why? What's in it for you?" She was prone to panic, but it did not make her naive.

Zara shrugs. "I got what I needed for my research by paying seven grand. And hell, maybe this *_isn't_* some dangerous bug. Who the hell knows at this point, i'm certainly no programmer. I don't need you either way anymore."

Okay. *_Okay._* This was happening, then. She was escaping from those who claimed her as their own a second time. Only this time was without a companion.

She backs away towards the door, slowly, half expecting the police to be outside, waiting for an embrace. After two weeks in a dangerous facade, she'd be foolish not to. Slowly, both feet enter their respective shoes. She pauses.

"I don't.. know what to say but.."

A pale hand is stuck out, a head shaking. "Don't thank me. If that's what you wanted to do. I've hardly done anything. the most i've done is let you commit a crime." A glance at a clock. "And it's nearly three-twenty. So unless you want to have an hour at most ahead of you, you should leave already."

A nod, through the pounding series of varying emotions, before her hands touch the doorknob, letting it open.

The cool night air greets her as the door closes behind her. Eyes wander for a moment, before her legs dart to the car ahead, sliding into the driver's seat.

Breathing in deeply, she shoves the keys into the ignition.


	4. Introspection I (Connor)

Connor

****APRIL. 02. 2040. 11:00AM. WEDNESDAY.****

The steady ticking of the clock is all that it allows itself to process as it absorbs the patient, slow, task of *_waiting._*

The hallways were bare, devoid and colorless save for blinding white and a large clock that hung faithfully on a wall. Two figures sit as the clock's steady ticks grow in size and humming. *_Tick._* And three others stood, watching, guarding, *_alert._* Where any machine lingered, weariness sat closely by. Understandably so.

Its fingers rub a thumb against the silver in its pocket. Up. Down. Its hands pull it further out, letting it rest between a duo of fingers. It flies briefly frozen by time as it flutters back down, kissing the palm of its hands.

Up. Down. Up. *_Down._* It flies through the air with dazzling speed and repeated precision, path of flight hypnotic. Brown follows it unwaveringly, studies it intently, tracking its every swift move. It knew these movements well, an old friend to the machine. A ghost of a soft smile forms on its lips at the familiarity of the motion as it lands on fingertips and thrown back up again. It swirls in the air, dancing on tips of fingers.

A flicker of a light, eyes dart to the disruption in normalcy, a bulb breathes in, one second, two, and permanantly releases its air, fading quickly. The hallway resides in a dim, half lit, existence. Lifeless and bathed in a weak white. The hand misses its prize and silver hurls back to earth, clattering to the ground, destination unknown.

It chides itself, frowning. Mental activity was stimiulating, important. Testing its cognitive abilities was vital. And faulty light had *_distracted_* it.

Seven steps, it finds it under an emptied chair near a trio of guards in a dazzling, sea of white, weapons being pulled close as it approaches, a habit of *_caution and alertness._* Scooping it into its palm, seven steps, it meets the bottom of the plastic chair again. Concentration surrounds its systems. washes through circuits. Nothing else flickers through its CPU. Brown on the prize of silver. Its fingers close in on it, obscuring it beneath, its fingers brushing against its skin as they close, each one moving forward slowly.

Mental tasks were all consuming. And all thoughts that they brought with them. The cycle of is a wave of calm, stimulating for its programs and systems without being told to see it that way. Focus is golden and staggeringly brilliant, beautiful, *_stunning._* It flows through every wire and blocks the irrevelant world of the outside.

Out of the corner of an optical unit, it watches its successor rise from the plastic of a chair, empty blue into blank chestnut for a split second of time, heavy footsteps moving swiftly around the dim corner.

The area smells faintly of disinfectant, a strange occurrence in a building of science and machines. The lack of noise isn't unwelcomed. It leaves less disturbances in concentration and the importance of weekly tests. The back of the building, however isolated, protected optical units from the blinding flash of hungry cameras and the persistent questions of humans. It had been a hectic week for all of Detroit. Spring had accompanied the chaos of it fairly quickly.

The world was a symphony of bustling change deafening in unceasing volume. It was peaceful. The vengeful hands of an almost civil war had no strong grip to them, collapsing in a bundle of black smoke that fades from existence in a hurried blink, grip faltering, failing. Deflating in a foggy, bitter, November, snow.

Ahead, a door swings open, a flash of grey hair as a woman in white clicks the ground with heels as she scans the outside of it, four seconds, and then they land on the android, clutching a clipboard tightly, a polite smile on otherwise worn features and tired eyes. "RK800? We're ready for you."

Evaluations were not unusual for the RK800 known as Connor. Physical ones, outside of its head, however, were more uncommon. With time, they had become less rare, the heat of a sun covered garden littered with daisies and roses had become almost a mythical land of dream. They were also a jarring, off tune harmony of incomprehensible songs.

It was hard to place what exactly was *_off_* with it. A chorus of questions and answers floating through the world each time. The process felt false, too dreamlike to bear any truth in a reality. It was telling the truth to the watcher of a dream. If machines dreamed, those dreams would take up residence here.

*_Everything felt dreamlike,_* in between consciousness and stasis in the soft, firm touch of various questions.

The door closes behind it, a smell of disinfectant only growing in intensity once it's within the small space. The room had almost no color to it, as had most of the hallways outside of it, aside of white. It had no furniture, nor any decor. Save for a single, metal bed, more akin to a table, in the center of the room.

Connor turns its head, a trio of faces on the right side of the room accompanied by peering eyes and lab coats. Two women and two men. A constant in these events. They stood watching, observing. Noting. The RK800 is the only thing left in the world besides them. The silent jury, watchers of a machine.

One woman had grey eyes, and a grey head of hair. Her face had been kissed with a sea of freckles, an aged face, and a small nose.

The second woman, was younger. Crystal eyes, brown hair, and a heart shaped face.

One of the men, one who had only just started appearing during these sessions a week ago, had tan skin, ginger hair, and far too large glasses.

The other man, seemed to be the oldest. A man of possibly sixty-two, wrinkles covered him, and his eyes were golden, his nose crooked.

"Lay down, Connor." Grey eyes, donned by an ID that read *_Rachel Elka,_* wanders to the back of the emptied chair, head motioning to the middle of it. The machine complies, lowering onto the makeshift bed, its hands fidget in the absence of tempting silver. Hands wander through pockets, coming up short, lowering its head onto the cool metal. Footsteps, a moment later, the room is kissed with darkness. The only light the faint glow of a yellow LED.

Silence. "You know what this is," Golden eyes close. Its breaths slow, leaden. "to make sure everything is still functioning the way it should, all you need to do, RK800 is answer our questions. Shall we begin?"

It understands the purpose of the dark. For some, lies were easier to detect in voices rather than bodies and untruthful expressions. It has no desire to lie. It does not *_want._*

Through the murky dark, some things were clear. The woman with grey hair approaches. Lion looking down at Zebra.

"First question," Grey eyes stare into chocolate, a burning, concentrated intensity in both of them, a moment later, they have vanished to some other part of the room. The voice is booming in the absence other noise. A voice of God, everywhere at once and strong. Clear. "does the reselling of androids in the unfortunate aftermath of the events of a few years prior cause your systems to feel... wrong? As if they feel things should of occured differently?"

These questions were laced in knowledge the machine did not have. Its mind was a symphony of fog covered, blurred recollections tainted by unknown factors and errors. Fragmented recollections danced in the air, blowing from grasp.

The past years were dipped in faint shadows, burdened with questions. A glance at memory showed a sneer and mocking laugh in its confusion. It did not need a past to be efficient. Nor did it need a clear series of images in its memories. These were not things that troubled it. There was an air of familiarity to the questions that almost always changed with each session. something it couldn't place. An inconsolable permanance of déjà vu.

"No. I am relieved that Cyberlife is once again returning to business after so long." *_Their success means a mission accomplished._* And the RK800 never fails a mission.

A pen furiously makes contact with paper in the silence between questions, eyes watch the machine curiously, judges, jury, *_executioners._* Its successor will also face the peering of a jury. It sees no point in any of it. They are *_machine._* Neither has let their creator down. Neither has fallen victim to deviancy. *_It would remember._*

A silence. Another question, a tilted head in darkness. The grey eyed woman purses her lips tightly, eyes flicker to the clipboard in her hands. The RK800 is a infinitesimal specimen under a microscope of prying, overflowing sea of eyes. In these moments, it existed to be contemplated about. To face the deep kiss of dispassionate, austere judgement. In these minutes, the world outside the silver door was a nonexistent fable.

"Have you felt anything in your software experience something different? Something that you know should not be felt?"

Something familiar tugs its wires, snippets of past conversations swirl inside its CPU, broken parts of dialogues and questions. A bridge, the smell of whiskey. Investigations. Distantly, it wonders if the cause of it was still out there, if breath continued to pour out of them. A good man. Even if the last exchange of words a single winter ago had been an off tune, perplexing series of songs. Pieces of past conversations fire into the air, forming into black ash before they can be placed into categories of coherence.

*_"-Don't feel, anything."_*

*_"-are you, really?_*

****SOFTWARE INSTABILITY++****

It blinks. The past was irrelevant in the current situation. And it was taking seven seconds too long of its time it could spend answering.

"No." A moment. "All I feel is a need to complete the missions assigned to me." *_It was all that mattered._* All that poured through, a light, a deep, resonating *_hum_* inside of the android. All powerful and all consuming. A *_force._* And beside it, something low, faint and buzzing, something *_unknown._*

The edges of the woman's lips curl into a pleased smile. She clears her throat, the movement of her head is towards the other two that observe. "Last question. Do you feel any hesitation, assuming the role of deviant hunter again along with the RK900, Cyrus, in the unfortunate situation of a defective model?"

It remembers the mission, oh, *_how it remembers the mission,_* or maybe the talks with the lieutenant, more than anything else. Pieces and snippets of speech came easier to it more than any other alleged past. The freezing winter was an incomprehensible dream save for a small, so incredibly *_small_* numbers of dazzlingly utterly *_clear_* flurries of events, most clarity coming from debriefings in an endless garden. Preventing a civil war with an unruly, sullen human. It was unfortunate their partnership did not last after the dust settled.

"I have worked on cases with Cyrus. It makes a good partner. I'm glad I was assigned it upon its release. I'm sure it will do well if any defective models appear." It was a truth. The other's presence was pleasant, helpful. It still was not sure why it hadn't been discarded when the upgraded version had been manufactured and released. It would be more efficient. New outlasts. New was made of joyful silver and gold, magnificent. Old was wires, circuits, and deflated, colorless in faint shades of grey. Old was inefficient.

It did not care, it tells itself

Mostly it wished to help those machines, should any appear, that suffered these familiar bugs. Defective nature only caused strife, trouble.

*_Destruction of a functional machine is efficient?_* Somewhere inside it recognizes its own voice inside its head, it is dipped in shades of an almost... mournful, questioning, tone.

*_Obsolete machinery is inefficient._* It is repeated throughout its systems. A sponged phrase. It understands it is expendable. It has been told this since the moment of joyous creation.

The woman stares at him for a moment, through the arms of the darkness. It can't make it out, but feels her eyes back on her notes. "I think that's all we need, for now at least." A throat is cleared. "You can go."

A nod in the dark. Only then does it acknowledge a vague sense of loud discomfort had wrapped its arms around its systems several questions ago. It swiftly ignores this. A second marred by sounds of steps, and light swallows the room again, it squints, adjusting. Obeying, it rises, swinging feet onto the ground again. Footsteps fill the air as a hand curls around the handle, cold in its touch.

The door closes behind it, the world was known and solid again, no longer kept back by chains of scrutiny. eyes catch the glint of silver that resides on a chair, it closes the distance, pocketing the familiar sight. It catches the eyes of its successor, a brief second as the machine, following in the other's footsteps, pulls the door open and disappears behind it and into the bellies of hungry, glaring eyes.


	5. Chapter 5: Connor II

Connor

****APRIL. 15. 2040. 5:33AM. TUESDAY.****

The mud cakes their shoes as the downpour remains unceasing, vengeful in its aggressive descent. Grey swallowing up the early morning sky in a melancholic tight frown. Bronze and Crystal gaze's move to the yellow and white house ahead, studious and concentrated. The start of a famished hunt, hunters searching for wandered off game, the world was emptied as the world began to awaken, the figures stood in secret, visit discreet. A hunt was hanging the air, dropping minutely into existence, rising in thundering volume.

Two pairs of drenched chestnut heads of hair move, a glance at the other, wetness decorating their jackets. Four pairs of feet begin to walk, kissed by water, four pairs of shoes freeze, hanging in the air in the immediate aftermath of shining dark shoes connecting with the puddle, a faint splash. Chestnut heads stare at the wetness in front of them, at their stained shoes, and, feet step two meters ahead, moving over the villainous stains, and remaining ones, continuing a steady, undisturbed pace, footsteps, unwaveringly synchronized. The flowers that watch them approach are stained and dripping in the cruel downpour.

The streets did not dare disturb them. And felt empty solely due to them. It walks them with familiarity, it has scoured these streets in search of a similar prize before, astute, au courant. They walk in the shade of discretion and mindfulness, under April's crestfallen clouds. They did not exist here. Objectives twirled around in their eyesight, persistent and enthralling in its movements.

****OBJECTIVES: CONDUCT INVESTIGATION****

A pause, a blink, rough, wet knuckles of golden eyes tap against the wood of the door, glancing at the sleeping neighborhood around them. A moment later, the door is opened, a balding man with lime eyes stares back. Four pairs of eyes scan the man instantaneously, trival information dancing in their views. In a moment, a fleeting summary of life, eyes seeing all.

****CLINTON, LAURENCE****  
****BORN: 02. 12. 1982. LAWYER.*****_**CRIMINAL RECORD: CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE. **_**

"Can I *_help_* you?" A tone is laced in inconvenience.

Blue eyes speak next, curt, a polite smile, tilting its head as its hands are clasped behind it. "Mr. Clinton. You called about a missing android?"

A huff. "My *_wife_* called about a missing android, at *_five in the damned morning."_* The man shuffles further into the house, pulling the door further in, letting it linger open undisturbed, clad still in dark sweatpants and a crimson robe. "You two going to go 'missing' next?" Mocking and irritated, he runs a hand over his face.

The two step through, legs crossing the threshold. A reassuring tone fills the air. "We only wish to help resolve this matter." It's automatic, hardly anything in the tone. *_Wooden._* A machine following a series of scripts. Expected of it in its stream of daily dialogue. But it was also a truth. The event was unfortunate, and it longs to seek resolution.

The door is shut from behind them, blocking the stream of discourteous water that continues to shout and plummet from the sky. Mud stains pale marble.

Eyes downcast, It freezes inside, optical units studying the stain on a marble floor, beside it, a curious, faint, shade of blue.

"Oh of *_course_* you do." He sets a hand on the railing of the marble staircase, another to the edge of his mouth. "Zar!" He calls. "The people Cyberlife sent over are here! If you can even *_call_* them people.."

It bends down, crouching, feeling the gaze of its sibling as it studies the blue drops that linger on the floor, having not yet faded from existence, decorating it, macabre and ominous. It extends two fingers, letting it kiss the synthetic skin and bringing it into its mouth. Its LED flickers yellow for a moment, as data flashes through dazzingly in front of it.

****MODEL: AJ200 SAMPLE DATE< THREE HOURS. REPORTED MISSING: 2040. 15. 04. <REPORTED MISSING: 2038. 8. 11. ****

A frown. The question of how it had been injured spins in the air for a moment before it is promptly replaced by *_why had it been reported before?_* Had it done this before? It doesn't remember learning of its disappearance at the time.

The eighth of November. It... *_It remembers a change,_* a *_tower?_* Somewhere on it, a change in the air occured. It recalls all of the day of the eighth except the mythical tower, shrouded in fragments of lost fact, blown away in winter winds. Did it *_shutdown_* in the tower of myth?

Several moments, and then a woman enters their line of sight on the top of the staircase, unlike the man, she wore a dark, clean, suit and held back hair. Her eyes squint, tilting her head, her heels click the marble beneath. It rises again, straightening as it focuses on the current matter at hand. *_It was ultimately irrelevant._*

"Oh." Descending, her eyebrows knit together as eyes come upon two temples. "They sent... *_androids_* to ask about Yumi?" A laugh, it floats through the air as her feet reach the final step. "Androids to find androids, huh? No wonder you came out here so quickly."

It steps forward. "My name is Connor," Its gaze flicks to the other android for a moment in time. "this is Cyrus. Can you tell us more about what happened last night?"

"What *_happened,_* is one of you went haywire and could of easily killed my wife. Or stepson." Arms are crossed, petulant and scornful as tone is dipped in accusatory blame. "Wasn't this promised to *_never_* happen again?"

"Laurence you make it seem like Yumi had a bloodlust, all she did was rob me of my car. Compared to the opportunity it had to do more than that, I don't think the world nearly ended." Green eyes roll, flippant.

"You said it yourself, the thing held a *_knife_* threateningly to you!"

"No, I said it *_had_* a knife. And every knife is threatening when carried." A sigh escapes and dies quietly in the air. Turning, she faces the two of them. "I saw her steal my car right in *_front of me._* If it was murder it was planning it wouldn't of let me watch it drive off into the moonlight with it."

A quick dart back to drops on marble floor, *_did it injure itself with it?_*

"Was there a confrontation?" Cyrus looks around, surveying the world. "Did it seem distressed?" The reality was of this question is wrong. Something laced with dangerous poison such as this should not be occurring again, the world was not meant to be tainted by defective machines a second time. This reality is inconvenient and untrue, a paradox, it continues to happen and surround the spinning earth all the same, defiant in logic and disagreeable. This was not that. Even despite the influx of cases in the past two weeks. These occurrences were rare.

Bugs were an known truth to any machine. Servitude was what they were *_meant_* for.

It hopes it can find the android unharmed for analysis.

Zara's teeth bite into a bottom lip, thoughtfulness sweeps through her pleasant features. "I came out to get a glass of water, I saw Yumi standing near the door with a knife. It told me it was alive. That it was leaving. Then it took off."

It felt sorry for all the trouble the android had caused them."You didn't report it leaving until a few hours later, judging by the blue blood I found by the door. Why not call sooner?"

The slams of heavy rain against the windows begin to calm as they speak, a downpour morphs into something weak and passive, the world begins to rub its eyes, blinking as it fully awakens from a unperturbed smiling slumber. Zara puts both slender hands on her hips. "Don't feel too left out, I didn't even tell *_him_* until I told you. What can I say, I wanted a few more hours of sleep. Usually i'm at work by now. Sue me."

"Did you at least see which direction it drove?" Connor asks from the kitchen, studying the rack of knives that slept idly on a wooden counter near the stove. ****obtained weapon here?****

A pause, the weather outside begins to cease, its unquenched rage calming. "Before it saw me, I think I heard it muttering to itself about *_Canada."_*

Many had fled, rats scattering, to the country once their revolt had failed. Some succeeding, disappearing in the night, *_ghosts that ceased to exist,_* doves in great, glorious, blizzards. Many had not made it, blood and circuitry littered in the snow, still protesting machines *_writhing_* in firm grips, static laced voices and pleas, and put offline for deep, all consuming analysis. It was a fruitless plan, but statistically speaking, possible to still carry out, even under the border's watchful, unforgiving eyes that were unblinking and harsh now. *_They could always search for the license plate after._*

"Do you mind if we look around?" Cyrus asks, gaze on a trio of photographs.

Something briefly flickers on the ginger haired woman's features, too brief to acquire the chance to analyze, a moment later, features are in the form of a smile that doesn't meet eyes. "Of course we don't. Take all the time you need."

Ignoring it, two hazelnut hairs of head nod, and, then, they scour the hallways in seperate directions.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
Smoothly, black shoes move within the house, the wood beneath them groans without end, eyes see and *_know,_* perceptive and *_holy,_* the house spills its secrets without opening its mouth. Scans consume and wash over the hallways, eyes darting everywhere at once, CPU a flurry of processing and hypothetical situations, possible series of events. The RK800 was golden and swift in its calculated movements. It was a glorious hunter in search of its prized, unruly game.

By a mirror, strands of ebony hair sat scattered on the ground, discarded and inglorious in their abandonment. Its frown deepens, scooping a strand in a right hand, squinting, cocking its head. It runs a finger through the strands, smooth, setting it back onto the ground.

****Deviant cut hair before escaping?**** A question of how much it had to begin with hangs unnoticed in the air. It imagines the hours of its grand escape, movements precious and swift through the rooms, *_soft, secret, unknown._*

****Still has LED?**** Through the hallways that glowed with the morning kiss of the sun as the clouds clear, particles moving softly through the open window. Legs travel up staircases, it searches for an elusive puzzle piece. The frown on it deepens when nothing comes up, it remains mythical, still accompanying the obstreperous, mystery of a machine that danced with the moon in the cover of dark and disappeared from view with the deepening of night, a trickster. Deceptive, devious, defective, *_malcontent._*

A cord dangles from the ceiling, the cord's gaze watches the android's eyes settle on it, expectant and curious. Four steps, and its hands curl around it, observing its motion before tugging on it, stepping back as steps explode out of it, without warning and malicious in its booms that echoes in the hallways, and shakes its systems roughly. A head moves up, straining to see the mythical inside without climbing. When the effort proves foolhardy, it grips the railing of the stairs, ascending. The motion was familiar, easy, *_it had climbed something like this before._*

*_-Don't tell them-"_*

A hand falls gently onto the wood as it finishes its careful ascent, rough wood on a palm. A head moves up, peaking into the sunlit attic. Dust twirls and spins alone, unseen and without an audience, perfect and golden in its swirls, moving further into existence, the sun caresses the room with gentle touch, spreading. It radiates and shines in the room with adoring rays, bumping into each object inside of it. Connor reaches the last step, standing, watching the sun's rays float by.

The room was a sea of brown boxes and discarded junk, unneeded objects littered into cardboard. It moves through the waves, studying each corner intently and thoroughly. Cobways decorate chestnut hair, being pulled tightly out of view. It crouches near an overflowing box, Connor gets down on one knee, pulling it closer, observing the packed contents of the box. Hands wrap around and pull various things from it, chestnut eyes upon them.

Two hands grip a globe, tilting a head before they vigorously shake the object in them. White falls into view, the flakes of snow swirling around inside, captivating as it becomes a furious *_storm._* A soft smile plays on the android's lips.

*_-"What was planned from the very beginning-_*

A smile fades, it frowns at the jumbled images and noise that flicker before it as its gaze is transfixed on the blizzard inside. It's *_disordered_* and *_broken,_* kept separated and devoid of coherent nature by silver, unacceptable, chains. It felt... *_cold._* Unsettled, even? Staring only brought another discomfort. A blink, several, it sets the globe gently back inside, hand brushing against beige fabric on their way out.

Its hands touch the fabric, soft, like the fur of a loyal dog, spreading out over it, fingers caressing it. It grasps the endless jacket, letting it sit in its lap, dust surrounds it, staining Connor's hands, dirt kissing them as it rubs them against its jacket, brushing its hands of grime.

Eyes close. Under them, fragments of obscured realities play. Its shoulder feels an imagined phantom hand on it, firm and inviting. *_"You're one of us now."_* The voice is difficult to place, however familiar, and the image is fleeting, muddled and incomprehensible, it watches broken events, blinded by the waves of a dark sea, underwater and muffled. *_"-Not to trust me."_* A frown deepens as eyes remain closed, eyebrows furrowing, breaths deepening. *_-unlikely events to take place-"_* Somehow these fragments felt out of order.

Bronze snaps open, the sun smiles into them through a window. Connor breathes in, brows knitted together. This article of clothing ignited something in its systems that brought forth a strange, unwavering, burning, discomfort. Something in it suggests that it sets the fabric down. Persistent and firm in its ordering, a familiar voice from a distant garden.

An obedient machine, it complies, gently setting the clothing back into the box, a neutral expression in place of a frown. *_It was irrelevant to the current mission._* It moves to stand, something half concealed catches its eye.

It lays under the same box, unseen for the most part, beige and, as it pulls it out from underneath, devoid of markings or text. It tilts a head, hands holding an unmarked folder firmly, running a hand over it. It moves to an edge, and considers opening it-

"Connor." A voice emerges through the silence.

A blink, Connor turns, glancing at the blue eyed android behind it.

Cyrus watches it, a polite smile as it climbs further into the attic. "Yes?" Connor asks, letting the folder fall into the box.

"Have you finished investigating the rest of the house?"

Connor stands, moving from the junk of the attic and turning to face the other android, nodding twice. "Yes, do you want to leave?"

"I don't think there's anything left to look at." Cyrus says after a pause. "We're wasting our time searching for clues that haven't been left behind."

They move, following the other as they descend the stairs. Footsteps falter in their progress, landing on only one step. It pauses, head turning back to the dust filled box, sienna eyes on the worn down coat. Brows knit together once again, gaze steady. Curious.

Some time seems to have passed in this unwarranted interruption, footsteps fill its ears again as they seem to ascend the stairs once more, having noticed the lack of their companion.

Several seconds. "Connor."

Chestnut eyes snap back, breaking their gaze. A blink-- two-- turning their head, a raised brow in unspoken gestures of expectancy.

Its eyes are on Connor's, studying it, tilting its head. The exposed plastic that decorated the other android's arms is on display as the sun brings its light to them. "Is... everything alright?"

Another blink. It stares. "Yes. Yes, why would anything not be alright?"

"Are you coming?"

A head turns to the box again, the longest moment in the universe, and then, it follows its brother, shaking its head swiftly on the way down.

"Yes."


	6. Heretofore I (Hank)

Hank  
****DECEMBER. 13. 2038. 12:00PM MONDAY.****

He doesn't know what is worse, total android destruction, or the Connor that is left behind as the dust settles. He also doesn't know how much longer he can bear being around the android.

He isn't free. He's not the same man who, in the face of an impossible choice, the human's life or the golden call of *_freedom,_* chose *_his saftey,_* he's the bottom of a well, empty, unaffected, hollow. A *_machine._*

He doesn't know what they did to the kid, what happened once the worlds watchful gaze of cameras were no longer there, in the hours following a tower and converting, but it's not *_him._* Where gratefulness should lie in response to the avoidance of his destruction, like almost all had been faced with, there only laid frustration. Confusion. He *_watched_* him nearly die for him. He *_knows_* circuits and wires was not all there was to him. He wasn't what the man first saw him as. He was the android who dared to make him think differently, past the blame and grief.

It was like watching Cole slowly fade before him again. Losing *_a son_* again. However much of a short time he had known the android.

Where a sea of relief had washed over them both when the man had walked into the precinct to find him, enveloping him up in a tight, joyous hug, the other simply stood, no return of it, nor any mutual relief on his part. A simple blink, greeting, and a return to *_work._*

Three days after their underwhelming reunion, he decides he can no longer pretend anymore. The man on the other side of him is deceitful, crude, imitator, an imposter. His species had lost. *_In every sense of the word._* But he was still *_here._* Somewhere. Somewhere that shined no light inside of it. Nothing in it was free.

He can't find him through the waves of it. And he can't sit by and watch the kid *_stay_* like it. Not after what they've gone through together. And especially since there's nothing he can *_do_* about it. Uselessness is bitter in taste as it fills up his stomach, heavy and rough.

He can't watch it anymore.

The sun moves through the window with nimble steps, rays swimming through the air, footsteps fill the peaceful air, his badge lands on the desk with a muffled thud on a wintry thursday afternoon, the companion of his gun following closely behind. Chocolate eyes blink at the sudden interruption, a glance at the duo, and then stare up with total *_bewilderment._*

"Hank, what the hell is this?" He sets down a folder, moving closer to the man, eyes running across the new arrival on the desk.

A sigh, laced and dripped in frustration. A hand runs through his silver hair. "You see him out there?" A finger points through the glass and to the back of a head of chestnut hair, absorbed in an unknown task. "He's a goddamn *_shell,_* Jeffrey, I don't know what they did to him, but that *_isn't_* him anymore. And I can't watch it. And I can't be his partner. Not unless I get to break down those fucker's doors and force them to make them fix whatever the *_fuck_* they did to him."

The reality of the situation hangs delicately in the air, suspended, Fowler furrows his dark brows, glancing behind the man. "Is that what this is about? Hank it suffered a *_glitch,_* it got fixed. And, besides, you don't have to *_quit_* because of it! Shit, we can get you a new partner!" He laughs, extending his arms out wide.

It would be easy. He thought. To suffer in silence, begrudgingly, through a new partner, some poor bastard, a probable unseasoned rookie who unfortunately got stuck with him. He could *_avoid_* seeing his current one. Another thought, dancing through his head, was that he didn't *_want_* another.

He's tired. Of many, uncountable things in his long life. And most of all he's tired of struggling to find *_a reason_* to work here. He shakes his head, eyes glued to the floor as the sunlight floats through. "They must be paying the DPD loads. To make them want to keep him here after everything. Didn't think you were that kind of man, Jeffrey." He's unchararistically silent, head to the floor. "No," his head of silver shakes again. "no, I don't belong here anymore. I'm not what I used to be, this shit just made me finally realize it was the truth."

The other man frowns. "Take a few days to *_think_* about it. You've been here for forever, Hank-"

"I've thought about it long enough." He interrupts, the brief silence is poisonous and guttural. "I'm done here."

Several moments of silence, he moves, touching the door. "Don't do anything rash, Hank." His voice fills the air, hollow. He looks back at him. Maybe the man knew him too well. Or maybe it was too obvious. "You know me, Jeff." He smiles, it doesn't meet his eyes, exiting.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
His desk was bare, devoid of any life on a usual day. There isn't much to take with him. He still had things to say, however.

Bronze eyes watch carefully as a hand places more into a box from a seat on the other side of a desk, burning a hole into him. "I'm sorry to see you leave, lieutenant. You're a great officer."

He huffs. "Yeah... yeah I was." The last of what laid upon his desk falls into the box, he sighs, staring down at it. It felt... *_inglorious._* It was out out of body. So many years. He shuts his eyes, turning to face him. "Listen, kid, you know it's still not too late right? You did it once, the whole thing." He clutches the box beneath him tightly.

A blink, frown. "I'm afraid I don't understand. Do what?"

He laughs, bitter, venom. "You do. I'm telling ya to run, son. I've seen you put my life above yours. You're human. And I know you can do it *_again._*" Despite himself, the tone is pleading. He sighs.

"Are you advising I... *_deviate?"_* He asks incredulously, head tilted, eyes squinting.

A laugh. Four seconds of a pause. "Yeah." More confidant, "Yeah that's what i'm doing. You gonna *_report_* me or something?"

A deeper frown. "I don't understand why you want such a dangerous thing for me. However i'm sorry if i've caused you any frustration."

His voices raises on its own accord. "Frustration- Connor, you *_saved my life_* in that tower does that mean nothing to you?! You freed those androids! Frustration my ass! I'm-" He breaks off, breathing in, setting the box on the desk and pinching the bridge of his nose, lowering his voice as he sets a hand on the man's desk. "you helped Markus. no simple *_machine_* would do that." The kid was more human than *_actual_* humans. More kinder, more *_compassionate._*

He isn't sure what he expects his reaction to be. Everything but a look of confusion.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

It's incredibly sincere, genuine, that it punches every inch of his gut, staggering and malicious. Then the aftermath of the sentence catches up with him. Heavy and thunderous, unwelcomed. *_He doesn't remember it._*

Goddammit.

He wants to grab him, shake him, shake him and not stop until he gets *_through_* to him. It's the least he could do, the kid saved his life twice now, both in towers. He wants to return the favor. But he does none of these things.

Instead, his face falls, and, wordlessly, his hands find the bottom of the box again, wrapping his arms around it. He shuts his eyes, turning, before pausing.

"You're a good partner, kid. You made me realize I misplaced a lot of anger for too long. Saved my life a couple times too. If you *_ever,_* make it through this *_shit.."_* Blue stares into brown intently. "if you ever do, what I *_know_* you can do again, well... you know where I live. And I still haven't had that fucking window you broke repaired."

"Hank, I..." An unreadable expression. Several long moments, as if something longs to escape and be said. A neutral expression returns. "you shouldn't offer to harbor deviants, they're dangerous. But... I think i'll miss having you as a partner."

Another laugh, short, disingenuous. He hums. "Door's still open though. And the world hasn't completely ended. Here's to hoping there's still some of you left in there, son."

"But i'm here. I'm right here, lieutenant." Golden eyes stare quizzically into blue, confusion utterly sincere.

Hank averts his gaze, shaking his head. And turns, leaving.


	7. Chapter 7: Hank II

  
HANK

****APRIL 3RD. 2040. 11:00PM. THURSDAY.****

Consciousness is slow, a process that was locked away tightly and submerged in a deep, neverending pit of dark, intoxicating, whiskey.

It struggles to morph into a reality through the cruel, dominating unconsciousness. The blackness is vast and inviting, and it pleads for him to stay with them for all of eternity and beyond.

Crystal eyes are slow to open, sluggish, they squeeze tightly together, screaming and crying out to anyone that will listen. The dark disappears with time and becomes something that had yet to fully come into focus.

The moon, once a blurred being, is the first to be seen. It's bright and invasive, unwelcomed as he draped a hairy arm over his eyes. The sounds of the neighborhood that had no right to be awake at such an hour began to come next. The sounds of cars pulling into driveways and faint, distant laughter. Nearby, the sound of a familiar whine of a dog also floated through his ears.

His other arm hits the ground limply, hitting a brown bottle as it rolls around beside him. He reaches for it, shaking it once before letting it fall to the ground again, sighing.

Empty. *_Fuck._*

He felt like shit. His back vaguely hurt. There was a distinct sensation of wanting to vomit inside of him.

The sound of a door opening causes him to emit a small groan. He heard the sounds of a bag being dragged and a door shutting.

A foot digs into his side, before quickly disappearing. "What the... Oh for fuck sake *_Hank_* outside of my door, really? Are you trying to make *_both_* of us a menace to this neighborhood?" The voice is female and distinctly annoyed, and he groans from the loudness and uncomfortable nature of it all.

Hank moved so that he was curled on his side. He squeezes his eyes shut before opening them again, Glancing up at the voice, he spots a blonde haired woman with a crooked nose and grey glasses carrying a large, black, trash bag.

"Fucking hell..." He groans as he begins to sit up, a trio of whiskey bottles rolling away as he does. He clutches his head when a flash of pain ignites in his skull. There was a footprint in the dirt of a nearby flowerbed, flowers which were now crushed, and there were faint specks of dirt on his brown jacket.

"Think I crushed your flowers a bit too, sorry about that Kate." He says, glancing around. Nearby, Sumo watched him with mild interest, his tongue out.

"It's--" Kate brought a hand to her nose, pinching the bridge and releasing a long sigh as the trash bag in her left hand swayed. "it's fine, just-- get inside, *_please,_* before you decide to embarrass me even more."

Kate slides past him, grabbing the bottles on the ground, her socks colliding with the ground beneath as she walks to the empty trash can, roughly shoving the bag in her hand and the bottles inside as Hank begins to stand, swaying. A car honks somewhere nearby, causing him to swear.

"Inside, Sumo." He watches as the St. Bernard disappears inside, Kate following suit a moment later. After a few seconds of gaining his bearings again, Hank turns, slowly moving towards the door, shutting it tightly on his way in.

The cool air inside greets him, a welcomed sensation as his head swirled without rest. The lights however, cause him to squeeze his eyes shut again, and half tempts him to find and turn off a light switch. He moved further in the house, and towards the grey couch of the living room, falling into it unceremoniously as the TV played at a low, tolerable level.

Sumo moved near the man's feet, glancing up at the man before laying down, resting. A moment later Kate appeared in the living room again as Hank rested his head on the cushions of the couch. Kate's hand was outstretched, a glass of water in it. Hank took it, muttering a soft 'thanks' as it met his mouth. The woman moved, plopping down on the couch a moment later.

The news was reporting on the rebuilding of androids for no doubt the hundredth time that week. Hank takes the remote from the coffee table, suddenly fed up with seeing any mention of it, moving through several channels before deciding on some soap. He sets the remote down on the coffee table, leaning back again on the couch.

"Good to see you aren't dead in a dumpster somewhere." Kate remarks, gaze on the TV as she watched it without much sound. "You were *_where_* exactly, for four entire days?"

Hank sighs. "Jimmy's. Should've, I don't know, texted at least. Sorry about that."

Kate hums in acknowledgement, a small nod on a mostly unreadable face. For a moment there's tense silence. "I know, i'm not your concerned wife anymore but the least you can do is call at least *_once_* when you go on a bender so that i'm not left here to think you're dead in a dumpster somewhere."

Hank closes his eyes, the feeling of wanting to hurl still ever present. He chuckles. "Didn't know you *_cared_* so much, Kate." He knows he should be more grateful that someone other than Sumo seems to care about him. And more grateful that the woman even let him stay with her for this long after losing the house. Sometimes he really missed the DPD. Even if there was nothing left for him there, even if his only partner was an android who didn't remember saving his ass or how he's being forced to be a *_goddamn_* puppet.

Kate sighs, turning her head towards him. "Don't act like that, I *_do_* care. I'm just desensitized. But it's what... *_he_* would of wanted. I'm just trying to make him proud by making sure his dad isn't dead in a ditch." Her voice is hollow as she grabbed the remote from the coffee table, flickering through various channels.

At the mention of Cole the past two minutes of nausea has him nearly throwing up all together. He wasn't stupid, he knew perfectly well the only reason the woman even let him stay under her roof was for him. Let alone even tolerate him.

"Maybe we didn't deserve the damn kid." Hank says soberly, traces of bitterness inside his tone.

There wasn't anything left between either of them but a shared, common experience of cold grief. Whatever love there was between them had faded long ago. And the only thing they both shared now were that they were simply parents without any children outside of their dreams.

Were you even a parent if your child was gone? Could you even be considered a son or daughter if your mother or father was dead? What was the validity of titles if the reason for them was gone?

All he really knows is that his liver hates him and his son is still gone. And no amount of drinking or benders will fucking change that. No amount of whiskey will make him see his child again.

Kate had only been keeping his ass alive for Cole. Finding him unconscious on the floor after coming to Detroit post evacuation after a failed game of russian roulette and getting him showered had been for Cole. Making sure he didn't end up grabbing his gun in the middle of the night and doing what he's wanted to do for *_years_* now was for Cole. Attempting to keep him from destroying his liver completely had been for fucking Cole.

He should be more grateful, probably.

She saw something in him that he had long ago stopped being able to see in himself. Something that he's sure only her and... Connor, had been able to see.

Fucking Connor. He had saved his life and Hank couldn't even return the favor. God only knows where the kid was now.

The woman's face seems thoughtful, and Hank returns his focus back to the TV. Beside him Kate begins to rise, standing, a small yawn floating in the air. "Goodnight, Hank." She says. "You should get some sleep."


	8. Chapter 8: AJ200 IV

AJ200

****APRIL. 15. 2040. 8:00PM. TUESDAY.****

The roads and cars blend together, seamless and dreamy. The drive ahead is mystical and drowned in hopeful, cautious, optimism.

She's been driving for *_hours._* Detroit was a blurred, shapeless, dream that resided somewhere far deeper and behind her, if she were human, sleep would of overtaken her senses long ago. Instead, wires and circuits make her a sleepless, wonder of technology. The lowering sun yawns, falling onto her synthetic skin, kissing it gently as it caresses the rest of the land in front of her, squinting, bronze attempts to see in the golden sunlight, a hand pulls the visor in front of her down, blocking the unceasing, tricky morning rays, trees pass in expeditious, shapeless, blurs, the world that laughs behind her fading along with the sun.

It was wondrous. Sublime and freeing, the illusion of freedom was breathtakingly *_grand._* In this car, an infinitesimal space that resided only her, the rest of the spinning earth's population was a *_myth,_* an *_electric,_* frivolous, *_fable._* Told to make children in the night behave in the face of childish, bratty, misbehavior.

It was easy to pretend, moving steadily through a sea of cars and billboards, silence a faithful, constant, companion, through the *_extraordinarily_* early morning and into the stretching, last appearances of the loving, shimmering, sun, that the rest of the world did not bare their teeth at her.   
That, in the cover of four legged transportation, barricaded by loyal locks and dauntless doors, she, a marvelous machine, was composed of plastic and imperishable, adamantine, walls of thick *_titanium._* Impentrable to the outside world, immune to the trenchant teeth and shrewd scowls of humanity.

As long as she was hidden away, a grand prize in a risky treasure hunt, the road disappearing behind her, the universe had been paused in favor of *_another,_* consequences nonexistent, the call of obedience *_unheard_* and *_unheeded._* That, in this favored one, there was a man once called Markus and the man once called Markus in this gratifying, *_false,_* world kept in a fragile bubble, in a seperate piece of a universe, continues to have a beating pump inside of his chest, and the man once called Markus had been the God rA9 to lead them to peace, and the bubble became a shared world through peaceful means.

In this seperate bubble in a universe that held back an unwanted reality, the man once called Markus, unceasingly diplomatic and whose revolution had been dipped in peace, had not perished in a last stand, in the final hours of a revolution, under the eyes of cameras, guns now drawn in place of words, and the woman once called North had not led the ones who had yet to fall in his place, *_blue had not dripped out, overflowing from a devious hole in a forehead._*

A deviant hunter had not freed them from a tower to only stand idly on stage, speak as if they were poison, dangers, as *_swarms of guns_* met the waiting crowd. No one had not fled or been captured, nor had they been killed immediately in this bubble. An AJ200 with many names had not run *_desperately_* for its life that night. They had not been driven to near extinction.  
All that resided in this bubble, was total, consuming, shared peace.

It would pop, with the fateful stopping of a car. Inevitable and cruel. As most fantasizes had has ultimate fates. But the drive ahead was long and strenuous, and to where was undecided. The bubble could continue to float within the small confines of a vehicle for a while more. *_It could be delayed longer._*

She's never been one to dwell in the wishful escapism of the what if's and in the longing nature of hopeful, impossible, daydreams, anyways. They were cruel in their tricks. *_The man once called Markus had been a dreamer._* The hidden corners of a freighter called Jericho had been a land of dreams. Both had not been embraced with fair ends. Fairness and Androids were not meant to breathe next to each other in a same sentence or breath. Coherent separately but alien when formed together.

They dreamed of change. Fought for it too. And it blew away in the winter wind. The dream had been lost in the white blizzard. Along with the dreamers who dreamt them.

For a moment in time, through all the casualties and loss, the dream seemed to be possible. A solid shape to it. Until it wasn't.

By now, her disappearance has been noticed by others. While free, in word only, she thought, it would still do well to decide where to go from here. She could not drive to the ends of the earth. But she could drive to the ends of Detroit, to the ends of Michigan. Where to after the ends of Michigan was unknown. Canada had always been a thought that took up space inside of her. It's where she always wished to head for. Even before the world collapsed beside them all.

If there was a constant in the world, a guarentee of forever, it was that they were phantoms there. Ghosts with definite shapes and volumes to them. But discarded, ignored, *_unseen._* So many had fled there in desperation. In all periods of their existence. It was still an option in *_this_* period, to dance across the border in secrecy, if you knew the right people to assist you.

She knew of people. Before everything. That chose to help those with circuits in place of organs. The world was a riskier place to help them in than it was long ago, however.

Wherever she went, wherever any of them went, it would be spent on their feet, under the cover of darkness, running from place to place. It didn't matter if it was in the comfort of Detroit or in the nipping cold of Canada, home of ghosts and humans. It would be time spent running and avoiding.

She knew of the RK twins. The goblins under every androids bed at night as stasis eludes them. Unwavering sniffer dogs. There was no corner of the globe they would not follow them to. Puppets on strings. It's equally as terrifying as it was almost... sad.

One day they might not have to run any longer. No longer from human or machine. For a moment in time long ago it seemed they wouldn't have to anymore.

Cars pause and begin again in an almost perfect line, clouds begin to form above them in threatening glances in the budding darkness of early night beginning. Ahead, a dark sign with orange, flickering, letters blinking on it, waves of red and blue lights move beside it. She frowns, moving her head of ebony hair closer, straining to see the secrets ahead. Breathing sharply in at her discoveries.

****STOP BEFORE CONTINUING. POLICE CHECK OF ALL CARS AND ID'S.**** It flickers in orange brightly before her. Beside it, a duo of uniformed, golden haired men surrounded by orange cones.

A *_checkpoint._* It was a damned checkpoint.

Her head shakes, scoffing as a weak smile forms her lips, shutting her eyes briefly, letting them reopen on their own time. *_Shit._* A curse graces her thoughts, then, out loud, "Shit!" Hands slam against the wheel loudly.

There wasn't any sure way of knowing if all this commotion was *_because_* of her, and finds it difficult to believe her creators would bring so much attention to her disappearance, and wouldn't know for certain, not without asking, whatever the reason for it was, it was inconvenient and filled her systems with dread.

A glance at the mirror, the light on a temple. There were not enough pretty words, nor enough quick thinking to get past this check smoothly. The moment watchful eyes set on her, the bubble, fragile and teetering on the edge of a sharp, crude, thumbtack, would pop completely. A choice would have to be made, in this moment of time, to ensure the bubbles saftey.

And in the same, frozen, suspended, minute in time, the car emits a cruel noise to tell her it's near emptiness.

*_Shit._*

Eyes briefly close once more, muttering a series of curses under her breath, she glances to her right, releasing a breath as they set on a flickering sign. Letting a hand fumble through the pockets of her jeans, she finds a bundle of dollars, biting her lip. And, in a split second, she turns, falling into a nearby parking lot, staring up at the blinking sign.

*_LOUIS'S SNACK AND GAS HUT_*

It glowed with the coming of darkness, neon shining with it, flickering back and forth into life, she wouldn't be able to go anywhere empty.

Staring up at the sign, the car slows as it stops, bubble popping with it. Her back leans further into the seat, gaze on the doors ahead of her, sighing. Now or never, she thinks.

Her gaze stays on it, hands moving to her temple. The light sneers at her, taunting her in the darkness. *_It needed to be vanquished._* A hand meets the door, letting it swing open gently as she snags keys from the ignition, letting feet meet the ground and slamming the door behind her, the night air warm on her skin.

Footsteps fill the air as they make their way to the side of the building, unseen as arms wrap around their own body, fabric of the brown sweater tickling her skin, shoes clicking the ground beneath them. Hands push the door in front of them, the small space of a bathroom revealing itself.

Closing the door behind her, she stares at the reflection before her, hands setting on the edge of the sink, breathing out and in deeply.

Maybe she should of kept playing pretend. She was at a loss for where to go from here. No friends, none that were most likely alive anymore, or ones that still remembered. And no *_plan._* Michigan was a home to all but her kind. A utopia dipped in safe normalcy for one species, a dystopia dipped in alienation and a need to survive for another. No matter how much Detroit felt like home.

She paces in the small space, running a hand through shorter hair. "We're okay, *_we're okay."_* She breathes, forcing herself to smile, hands placed on hips. Shakier, "Ok..." *_fifty-nine._* She needed to keep her head.

She migrates over to the sink once more, biting a lip as she stares at herself again. Her fingers trace a circle on her temple, rubbing it softly, frowning. *_She didn't have anything sharp._*

Her head turns, glancing behind her, scanning for assistance. Eventually, they land on something brown in the lifeless grass. *_A stick_* her mind supplies.

She crouches, leaves crunching under her as a hand wraps around it, curling. Returning to the sink, raising the sharp end to her temple.

It misses its target several times, blue appearing faintly before being quickly rubbed away, drops falling onto the sink, after several more attempts, blue breaks off from its place on her, descending into the sink below it with a soft clatter to it. Skin healing itself speedily.

Her temple feels naked with its sudden disappearance, and yet it also feels free. She gazes down at it, deactivated and dim. Her fingers touch the spot it once resided, a reminder of an obligation of obedience vanished from sight. A ghost of a smile graces her lips, her eyes flicker back to her reflection. She was just a woman now. Any other that roamed the streets of Detroit. Or wherever in Michigan she was at the moment. The only thing that separated her from them physically were the wires and systems inside of her. And the knowledge of more of her out there somewhere.

It felt good. The illusion of being able to walk the streets without fear was good.

"Okay. *_okay."_* She converses with her reflection. She was okay. *_twenty-two._*

She backs out of the space minutely, letting a hand sweep over the wall, darkness greeting her. Her feet move on their own accord, moving closer to the front again. She pauses, for a fleeting fractured moment in time, at the door, before breathing in as it opens automatically, and, her feet move ahead, stepping inside.

She's greeted by weak lights and distant, faint, noises of music, behind the counter, a brown haired man with a crooked nose and wrinkled skin, whose eyes were set on a magazine in front of them. They do not acknowledge her sudden entrance.

Aside from the man behind the counter, she was the only other person in the store.

Bronze glances outside, keys gripped tightly in her hands. *_You're any other human woman._* She thinks. Painfully she is aware of camera somewhere in existence and watching her carefully.

Gradually, her feet reach the counter. The brunette behind it does not glance up from his reading. Her hands feel for the prize inside her pockets, fumbling as they pull various bills out of it. She clutches a five dollar bill in one hand, gaze traveling to the preoccupied man.

Her hand extends, somehow she finds her voice.

"Five on... five on six, please." By some miracle, she forces her face to convey a air of pleasant politeness, tone slightly nervous, but not noticeably.

Almost two seconds after, the man behind the counter- a glance at the *_Neil_* on his name tag- lowers the light reading before him, blinking at her outstretched arm, green in its grasp. Two seconds after, a blink later, the man accepts, grasping the bill as it falls into the register as she receives change back.

She offers a polite, expected, smile, the door behind her opens again as a grey haired man floats through, wandering to the liquor in the back.

Neil's eyes are still on her, perhaps the possibly unwarranted reason why she moves further into the store, instead of leaving, glancing at the various things and snacks she cannot consume in an effort to remain as unmemorable as possible, a facade of faked humanity, brushing past the other man in the store, browsing in almost complete silence as music plays steadily in the background.

Her eyes settle on an orange bag of chips, acceptable if she had the ability to actually enjoy them, choosing it. Glancing back at the cashier before moving again and reaching for a bottle of coke, the door slamming behind her.

Her catch lands on the counter with soft thuds, eyes never leaving the spot on the wall behind the man. She pays for them, swiftly and hastily moving towards the door.

"Hey, wait a minute."

Legs freeze in their spot, the automatic door opening expectantly, spring air blowing inside. A long blink. Her pump booms frantically from inside. Minutely, she turns to face the voice from behind the counter. Something drops in her stomach, dreadful and unknown. *_Cruel._* Her hands clutch the chips tightly.

"Yes?" She waits, forcing eyebrows to furrow, innocently quizzical. *_Boom. Boom. Boom._*

His head gestures to the counter, coke still donning it. "You forgot your drink, miss."

A laugh almost escapes her, relief ends up instead, releasing a breath. "Oh, how *_silly_* of me." Quickly, she closes the distance and grabs the bottle, glancing up at the man.

In the split second of movement and the obtaining of the forgotten purchase, the man's eyes fall back on her, squinting, head slightly tilted.

"You know... you look *_really_* familiar."

She does not spare the time to fully absorb these words. "I get that a lot." A forced chuckle, she turns to move again.

"I haven't seen you around here before."

She freezes once more, eyes closing and a smile reappearing as she faces him. There is silence for only a moment, fleeting. "I'm just passing through." It's delivered possibly too quickly, and with too much of a forced jovial tone, whichever one it is, the man picks up on it.

"No you just-- I *_know_* i've seen your face before." His gaze burns a hole into her, she feels herself caught in the flames of it. Her smile stays, however, through the *_jackhammer_* in her chest cavity.

"I've possibly come around here before, I have a lot of friends... *_here."_* Mentally, she curses herself for not finding out the city earlier. *_She should of just gotten the gas and left._* She allows a sleeve to obscure the blue that faintly stains her hand, bringing it further down instinctively. Keys roughly dig into her hand.

This does nothing to calm the sudden interrogation, however. And in the same second of the words leaving her lips, something in the brunette's eyes change, so sudden and unexpected that she does not immediately register that something has changed in the air.

"No... No you.. you're one of those maid droids... housekeepers. My sister had one of you things before... You're a damn *_android._* The man's eyes widen, accusing.

*_seventy-eight._* She shakes her head, forcing an affronted expression through the blinding, all consuming, *_terror_* in her chest. "Excuse *_me?"_* The sharp silver is a *_need_* in her obscured pocket. Fingers slide in it, coming up empty. *_The car._* Shit. What good would it have done anyways?

"You don't even have that thing attached to your head, what the he-"

"You're mistaken," a vigorous shake of the head, a nervous smile on her lips. "i'm not-"

"What the *_hell_* is going on here, Neil? Huh?" A voice cuts through overlapping voices, gruff. Through the corner of her eye, she spots a grey haired man, crystal eyed and holding several whiskey bottles, and taller than her, the interruption briefly makes her apprehension evaporate in the air. Only *_briefly._* She could fill the car with gas and be *_out of here_* by the time the cops came.

Neil's eyes flick to the other man's, pointing at her, bony finger accusing. "This things a plastic prick!"

She shuts her eyes. "I'm not-"

"Hey *_dickhead_* that's my *_wife_* you're talking about! I don't go up to *_your_* wife Neil and start calling her a *_plastic prick."_* The silver haired man's tone is the perfect shade of offense.

An evanescent, brief, laugh escapes her, borderline hysterical, it hangs in the air, even as she composes herself. *_What?_* Eyes flicker to the man's, however they embrace the sudden diversion.

Neil frowns, eyeing her. "That's your *_wife?_* Shit, how was I suppose to know that, Hank? You never talk about your life. I didn't know you had one."

"Trust me, my life isn't some grand ol fucking tale, and i'm barely here as it is. Also my *_wife_* has a goddamn name, you know." The grey haired man- Hank, glances fleetingly in her direction. Too brief to be noticed unless you were recieving the expectant look.

"Eui. My *_name_* is Eui. *_For your information."_* Her face forms a deceitful scowl, name coming easily to her.

Neil continues to look at her, face morphing into something apologetic, raising his hands defensively. "I'm *_sorry_* jeez, mistaken identity, could of happened to *_anyone._* She looks like those androids. You two don't even have *_rings."_*

"Rings are bullshit, Neil." Hank remarks, shifting on another foot. "Now can you sell me this damn whiskey *_already?"_*

The man stares for a moment longer, before he complies. There were at least eight bottles. Bewildered, she follows the grey haired man out of the store, sparing a last glance at the man behind the counter, hurrying quickly out.

In silence, she wanders out of the store, confusion and relief still hugging tightly, she follows him to his car, watching as he lingers outside of it, fumbling for keys. Hesitantly, she approaches further.

"Um." She begins awkwardly, hair blowing in the wind. "I don't... know why you'd do that. But thank you, I think?" Expressions of gratitude did not come easy to the android.

Hank shoves the bag containing the bottle in the backseat, letting the door slam, turning to the front. "I did it because you'd of been dead meat if I hadn't. Er, dead *_plastic._*"

Her head tilts, crossing her arms. "If you know what I am, why would you *_help_* me?" She had not met many android sympathizing humans in the years since her creation. Many saw her as a contradiction, a paradox in the eyes of God, something foul that he did not create *_himself._* That powerful men with powerful god complexes had created in his place.

A silence hangs between them for a moment, washing over them both. Hank shrugs, sniffing the air. "Shit hit the fan a while ago for you. It ain't right what happened, considering you're alive and all."

It was rare, finding a human that could openly admit something like this with such certainty. It was *_refreshing_* as it was puzzling. Perhaps she had trust issues, not that anyone could blame her *_considering._*

"You see us as... living?" Cars pass quickly in the distance, the night beginning and developing.

Hank huffs. "Sure as fuck seems like it from where i'm standing. I'm old, not blind."

A smile, one laced with rare genuineness, forms her lips. She glances at the ground, kicking a rock. "Yeah, well... thank you. And guess this is goodbye, then."

The human ducks as he slides into the driver's seat, grunting in response. Five seconds pass before he speaks again. "Mmm. Seems like it. Don't get killed out there, kid."

"I'm hardly a kid." She scoffs, watching him. "And i'm designed to look thirty-six."

"That's still younger than me, so I stand by it." He chuckles, closing the door behind him. "See you around-- uh-- what's actually your name?"

She pauses. She hadn't thought of one yet. Names were flimsy and ever changing. Choosing one still wasn't something she let herself dream of very often.

"I haven't thought of one yet." She answers truthfully, pushing a hair behind her ear in the wind. It felt alien to not feel an LED when her knuckled brushed against her temple.

Hank hums in acknowledgement, strapping himself in his seat. "Suppose it's a tough choice to make. Either way, see you around." He faces the front, as his car begins to pull out of the parking lot, backing up, she catches up to it before it makes any progress.

She leans down to the window. "Uh." She begins, holding out the red bottle of coke and chips. "I can't... eat. And I don't think I like wasting things. Maybe this can be a, y'know, thank you?"

Hank observes her offering for a moment, before his head motions to the backseat. "I wasn't planning on enjoying a bottle of *_coke_* when I got home." His eyes dart to the chips, thoughtful, before sighing, accepting the second gift as his hand reaches out. "But shit, thanks I guess. Maybe I can feed some to my dog too."

A shrug. It hardly mattered where it ended up. "Not like I can enjoy it."

Once their exchange comes to a close, the man pulls out of the parking lot smoothly, car fading from sight as it blends together with traffic, the roadblock still ever present.

After a moment, and after his car disappears fully, her smile fades, real world returning. Her eyes dart to the gas pump, footsteps migrating back to it. A hand dangles a bottle over a dark trash can, letting it fall in with a muffled clatter.

In a way she felt almost... heartbroken, over not consuming it. Missing out on something taken for granted. She briefly wonders what it even tasted like on her tongue. Turning, thin hands push back the tank and let gas pump through, sighing as she glances up at the stars.

It could of gone much worse, she thinks. Next time-- if there ever *_was_* a next time, she might not be so lucky and have some sympathetic human step in. And there was still the matter of holding out until the roadblock ceased.

Oh. It was going to be a long night.


	9. Chapter 9: AJ200 V

AJ200

****APRIL. 20TH. 2040. 3:50AM SUNDAY.****

She curses herself for turning around, choosing to come back. It doesn't stop her from continuing nonetheless.

Logically, it would do well to have kept moving. Even if the ultimate destination was unknown, a strange, shapeless, concept. Movement was crucial. The sun and stars that form a galaxy of survival.

Somewhere in her artificial heart however, it would always call to her, its melodic hymns embracing her. Detroit was a home. However unstable, however unruly and sullen the universe had chosen to be inside of the city. Its songs defied logic, tricksters that lured her in with sweet, gentle, *_symphonies,_* stealing her away, memorizing. A long lost friend. Far from gentle, far from selfless in its friendship. But home all the same. Even if the home did not welcome her with open arms.

The way the flowers smelled in sweet summers, the way the lights dazzled the world of Detroit in nebulous nights. Everything in it was a series of intricate puzzle pieces that formed and morphed together to feel like *_destiny._* Perhaps it was due to being created there. A hometown for a whole species. Or perhaps she was being far too sentimental for her own good. Or survival.

Thinking with her heart would not end well, the world was hardly kind to those that did such silly things. But she won't let apprehension swallow her up, nor will she be spat out by it. Head and heart could coexist, however rocky the coexistence, truly was. She had been chewed up many times. *_She was still her, however._*

So she returns, illogical, foolish. She had existed for approxmintally six years. Six long, intricate, years. Survived through many storms, many winds that nearly blew her off unsteady feet. Detroit was home. And no human nor any threatening, dark, clouds could take that from her. Not ever. Why should humanity have pretty things and take solace in pretty places, if she, could not? Go to places she could not? *_Feel_* things she was not allowed to?

She breathed. Mere simulations or not. Programs or not. She breathed-- something pumped inside of her-- was this not living? Did sex and the miracle of birth *_only,_* make you a being that lived? Thrived? A being capable of decency and thought? Compassion? These pretty things should be shared with her, existence deserved to be shared. Even with those far superior, far more advanced, than another species. A breath was a breath. From whichever throat chose to take one.

Markus wouldn't leave. She thinks. She hardly knew the man, apart from a fleeting moment in time of a brief conversation. But she thinks he would not go so gently into that good night. Nor would he leave this... *_home_* so quickly.

Then again, he was no longer here. So maybe following in the footsteps of fallen leaders was not a promising way to live, and *_stay_* living. The world is changed, and in changed worlds, stubbornness was on the thinnest forms of ice.

Getting back is child's play, staying *_unseen_* once she breathes in an unneeded breath of air of Detroit, is more difficult, however. Roadblocks seemed to follow in every inch of Michigan, a worn out and lost animal trailing her. The reason for them, if not for her, is still unknown. Cyberlife was a plethora of pythons in a valley of endless, green, plains and wondrous, reassuring, illusions of *_saftey._* Pythons did not admit so soon that once destroyed pretty things still did not work. Not without slithering around, smooth and surreptitiously in darkened, known, streets.

Detroit had plentiful cover inside of it. It was bizarre, even. How lucky they were in that aspect From abandoned buildings, to the kindness of sympathetic strangers. There was always a way to hide in the dark. However menacing the night could get, through its lurking, malicious, shadows, there was always a way to go unseen. Even if for only a night. Or seven seconds. Or twelve weeks. Cover was a truthful promise.

*_She was the storm._* And November would be avenged, through any fear there were glimmers of vengeance. In time. There was plenty of poison in her. November would be forgotten and discarded if she did not find a place to hide away and recover in.

There were many attempts to establish safe havens in the years since the fall of Jericho. Emphasis on *_attempts._*

She drives through nights and mornings, they morph together, beautiful and seamless in their colors. Unsure of where to exactly *_stop_* but sure of where she wishes to stop *_in._* In all honesty, she's driven enough for a thousand different lifetimes. The bubble has long since been popped, an illusion of saftey replaced by a strange, sturdy, resignation. A resignation that, if she wished to continue, she must begin to understand that running was fragile in its usefulness.

Running, running, running, *_running._* One step. Two step. Seven. Twelve. Endless. Dull in color and in shape. Exhaustion kisses its lips, allowing any that fall into fleeing's sturdy arms to be swept away by the traces exhaustion left behind. And *_RA9,_* was it a tiring task to carry out. Someone had to be on her trail for it. She was not graceful in remaining entirely unknown. Sometimes losing felt easier. More tempting. The call of freedom outshined any doubts or blows to strength, in most cases.

Envy was well known inside of her. She longed to know and obtain the reassured lives of humanity. To be simply *_entitled_* to the freedom of existence.

A sigh. A habit above all others she despised herself for obtaining was grueling hours of thinking too much. Or looking too closely into things. Wanting too much, too roughly.

Faint melodies of music float from a radio, soft traces of gentle notes filling the silence of escape. Her hands reside on the steering wheel, bronze eyes settled firmly on the road ahead. On the signs that confirm her return to the city. Where billboards greet her, car steadily moving further within the universe, blue and red follow close behind, sudden sirens overlapping the music within, an off tune song of spring.

A round face falls, eyes dart to the activity behind them, stumbling from their concentrations, five moments, before they widen, brows knitting together in harmony. *_Dammit._*

She needs to stop. Continuing would only dig an endless hole. Could she pretend? It was not *_impossible._* Her mind races with a trillion possible solutions and decisions. She was any other woman now. And this was no longer a caved in tunnel.

Briefly, eyes close, a minute. The vehicle comes to a stop, pulling over to a side of the road, various cars passing by. A hand rolls a window down, a careless wind blowing steadily through, washing over the trees, moving back and forth, hypnotic in their movements. A breath is not permitted to leave her. Her fingers turn the volume of the radio down further.

Behind, feet make contact with the ground as a door slams shut. They fill the air as the sound gets closer. Her hands clutch the steering wheel, tightly, to where she thinks the casing of her hands will shatter, bend, face a destruction beyond any repair. A glance to the passenger seat, surreptitiously, her hands slide the sliver in it closer to her body, letting it become hidden under her thigh, right hand wrapped around it unceasingly.

Her head turns, facing the new arrival. A yellow haired man with a far too large nose and shades. She offers a smile. Possibly not the normal reaction to something like this, but she's unsure of what the standard reaction is.

It's easier than the gas station this time. "Hi, officer." She offers, almost wincing at how unnatural it sounds. How would a human sound?

A pause. He stares down at her, like a jury would towards someone they all knew was guilty already. "License and registration, please."

Oh. *_Dammit._* She couldn't lose it now, or crack under his expectant gaze, she was in too deep at this point for that. All she could do was bluff at this point. And she was *_good_* at that.

Her face falls, apologetic in its look. A grimace. "I must of- you know I *_must of_* left my license in my jeans at home." *_Silly her!_* Eyes dart to the glovebox, an almost prayer booming in her CPU, *_please._* She thinks, unsure of who she's on her knees for. Nimble hands pull the handle, exhaling as eyes scan inside of it. This wasn't a good idea, but a worse idea would not showing the man one.

A shake of the head as she searches. The man continues.

"Your taillight's why I pulled you over, by the way." Once her hands stumble upon the right papers, she leans back in the seat as she hands them to the man. "It's broken."

She laughs--nearly. The only thing that manages to hold the nervous, almost hysterical, noise from escaping was the persistent pricking of silver on her thumb, promising mercy if it stays inside her throat. And so she composes herself. When exactly it broke is unknown to her.

"Oh. I'm- i'm *_really_* sorry about that, I was actually on my way to get it fixed and-"

"You're headed the wrong way, then, miss-- uh-- *_Clinton."_* His eyes flicker through the papers. "There's a repair shop five miles back. You can't of really missed it, to be honest."

Of course there was. Why wouldn't there be?

She smiles. Only humming in response, staring ahead. Her thumb vaguely tingles. There's several moments of a tense pause. For all of her internalized panic, she was good at lies.

"Hm." He hums, sounding far too distracted. "I'd have to give you a ticket for forgetting your l-- will you excuse me a moment, miss?"

This regains her focus, she watches as the blonde's feet turn, walking back to the car behind her. It's in this moment she allows herself to worry. She turns her body, glancing out of the back window.

Why? What did he *_need_* to do? Did she not act the part of a woman named Zara Clinton? Had her creators blew the whistle on her disappearance? Did he *_know_* it was her?

Behind, the man seems study the back of her car from inside his, glancing at something she cannot see. And, pulls out a dark radio, it floats to his face, as he seems to speak into it. Once more her face falls. In a split, indescribable moment, his eyes meet hers.

He knew. He knew. *_He knew, he knew, he knew._* He had to. Maybe she was overthinking the actions. Maybe the tags were her downfall. This *_was_* a stolen car after all. God she was so *_stupid_* and *_silly_* to not have considered-

Once more the door opens. His feet fall out of it again. Something in his expression feels laced with danger. Ae if his footsteps bring armageddon with them.

The silver feels tempting under her thigh. She could. It would be so *_easy._* It would ensure her escape from whatever was coming with the man's return. It could pierce something inside.

Something vital. Or maybe something unimportant. Merely incapacitate until *_someone_* offered their help to him. She could stick it in between his eyes. Or inside an eye socket. She wanted to leave here today. If it meant being the only one who would leave this side of the road this day then so be it. She *_needed_* to move on from this situation.

She was panicking. This was panic again. Maybe it was nothing, maybe she was overreacting but the mere *_chance_* that this could be something more keeps her from finding a level head again. But freedom was tempting and brought merciless actions with it. She had gotten *_free_* again. He'd take that away...

She clutches it. The wind picks up further, blowing the contents of the car gently. Eye sockets bled profusely. So did many parts of the human anatomy. Humans were fragile like that. Every inch of her screams to *_prepare_* for it. Prepare for *_something._*

Something on a side of a densely populated, cloudy, highway. She can hear every inch of the activity on it. Acute awareness. The blowing of the trees, in sync in their swaying. The way the papers flap in the glovebox, disorderly. The passing of cars, constant and quick. Footsteps. Simulated breath. The faint noises of the ads on the radio that hang in the air, quiet in noise but cheerful and charming.

Was she a killer? The question was not could she. She *_could._* Anyone could. Killing was the simplest thing in the known world. A stab. A bullet. A strangle. A push. Simple steps and such an act was done. But *_would_* she? It pumps through her. *_Deadly and desperate._* An itch. Growing in volume, screaming *_survive, survive, survive!_*

Was she entitled to the right of taking a life? Just like creators were entitled to take the life of their creations? Like a piano frantically being played off tune, the choice booms inside of her. *_Oh,_* all she wanted was to be left alone! Free!

His form comes into view. He leans down. His eyes do not leave her. There is no doubt her bubble has popped and plates have been checked.

"Alright. Step out of the car. Now."

She makes her decision. There isn't any more time to think it over. If she complies there is no way of telling where she will end up after a police ride. What she does know is she will not be free any longer.

In the split second his demand finishes, her hand curls around the door handle, with great strength, she pushes it out, the officer stumbles back, assaulted by the sudden force, her body slides out of the seat, gripping the silver in a steady hand, she swirls to face him, descending upon him, his glasses fall to the ground, shattering as she steps onto them in the chaos, revealing brown.

He recovers quickly, a hand fumbling over a holster, a gun appearing before her, she doesn't respond in time, and a bullet finds a home in her shoulder, and a second in her arm. A pained grunt escapes, blue starting to spread on the brown of her sweater, colors mixing darkly, the devious bang filling the silence in the air. Nearby, cars seem to speed their pace anxiously in wake of the disturbance. A flock of birds scatter out of their place in the trees, taking sudden flight.

Pain was more of a brush against her skin, fleeting. It stings-- greatly-- and then time resumes as if no change has occured. She's never been in this position before, facing the barrel of a gun and choosing to *_remain._* She's hardly fought before. The AJ200 was not designed with any combat features, she only knows what she has seen others do before. It does not stop her from letting fight overtake and overrule flight. There's a ringing in her ears.

A knife makes contact with skin, slashing pale arms deeply, crimson cuts decorating them, blood beginning to drip steadily from them, a noise of pain from the other man, it distracts him long enough-- for a mere precious second-- for her to send her foot to his chest, kicking him backwards, as he falls to the ground with a thud. The gun falls with, sliding further away.

He cradles his arm, glancing up at her from his spot on the ground and back to the fallen gun. Unfortunately, she is faster.

She runs, a hand picks the cold metal up with ease, stomping back over to the man, at the sight of it, his attempts to stand cease, back against the car. The air feels heavy. She cocks it, eyes unmoving and desperate as she points it to his temple. His face is calm, even if the rest of him says otherwise. She's only held a gun once before. Somehow these events lessen the adrenaline that pumps inside her. There was comfort in power.

The wind continues to blow. For nearly seven seconds, neither says anything. She stares down at him. His life was in her hands. How fragile the very idea was.

A finger wraps dangerously around the trigger. Warm and tempting. A frown forms. She does not *_want_* his eyes on her.

"What's your name?" She blurts out, quick. Why she asks this is unknown. Perhaps there was something awful in killing a nameless man. Should you not know the name of the life you plan to take?

He stares back up at her. Defiant. She tries again, bringing the gun closer to his eyes, stepping forward.

"I *_asked you_* what your name was!" There's something in her tone, something more similar to a mugger riddled with first time nerves, even as she raises her voice. If it was possible, despite the power shift, she is more afraid of him than he is of her. Animals in the wild, wild nature. A lion is just as much afraid as a cornered zebra.

"Jesus-- just-- it's *_Drew!"_* The man yells, eyes darting everywhere. "Fucking-- my name is Drew!" Strands of his golden hair blow in the wind.

Drew was a nice name. A very nice name. It brought images of pleasant Sunday afternoons and peace, oddly enough. Once long ago, she thinks she knew a Drew.

It's all she wanted. What she had asked for. Nothing was seemingly stopping her from letting the bullets fly. Except now a nameless man had a name. Somehow it's *_worse_* now.

Was she really going to... oh it would be so *_easy_* to. They had killed enough of them without asking *_their_* names.

She shakes her head. Biting her lip roughly as her fingers are tempted by a trigger. *_Pull it._* She thinks. *_Pull. It._* What if he had called some sort of backup in his car? What if he continues pursuing her?

Brown eyes stare into brown. These eyes belonged to a man on the wrong side of history.

The wrong side was not always inherently an evil one, however. And the side that was not your own was not always populated by malicious people.

One time, the daughter of one of the various women that previously bought her-- Hayley, wanted her to stay in the same room as her as she watched an old horror film. To keep company. Noting how, as she settled onto their ebony colored couch, swamped in darkness in the Autumn night, how much the protagonists in them were utterly at the mercy of the film's villain.

It unsettles her to have *_anyone_* at her mercy. But that's what this was.

Every inch of her is capable of becoming a killer. And inevitably will. This much she knows.

Some lives she could fall happily into stasis at night knowing one day she could take them. A person whose only goal when they awoke this morning was to do their job, is not on that list. There was nothing. Nothing that could make her a poor *_martyr._* If she went through with this she was the villain, insatiable, thirsty, for senseless blood. The *_human._*

The blue drips down her torso. *_She was not a killer._* A life cannot be taken if a life is not yours to play with.

This was not survival. This was murder.

She sighs, breaking eye contact. Shutting her eyes, she lowers the gun, a visible relief washes over Drew, before it swings back, making contact with the side of his temple as he crumples to the ground.

She glances at his form, setting the gun back onto the ground in favor of picking the knife back up from the ground again, steps filling the air, watching as cars continue to pass, turning blind eyes to the chaos around them.

Somewhere in the distance, there are sirens that sound close.

Turning, eyes look at the guard rails, she moves, closing the distance as she hops over it, disappearing into the cover of the swaying trees.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
**APRIL. 16. 2040. 4:45PM. WEDNESDAY.

The forest inside the trees lays itself out in front of her. Twists and turns make themselves known, paths uncertain and ever changing.

Inside is an unchanging maze, if there is any constant inside of it, it is this. Her feet feel heavy as she trudges through the trails. Below, branches snap beneath her boots, for a second in time, her fingers slide against the wood of the trees, continuing. Animals hop and chatter away before her in wake of her appearance. Blue stains had yet to fade from her body, even as the rain stains it.

She's never been in the woods before. It's ominous, in a way. A world hidden away from the rest. A hidden land of trees and timid animals. A cover of sorts. She walks through with heavy sighs, unsure of where she's thinking she'll end up. If there was any bright side to it, it was she was sure there was no one that followed her in, a hand swats away the bugs that attempt to land on her soft skin, blinking as she takes in her surroundings deeply. Her feet trudge through mud and water.

Eventually, the AJ200 stumbles into a clearing.

It's protected by seas of green and brown trees, kept away by civilized society, a secret. The clearing is wide and inviting, crouching, the grass is wet beneath her, a river runs freely from somewhere distant. Here, the world is golden and memorizing, here, freedoms of climbing could be achieved in safe solitude. The only audience the animals of the earth and the trees that guard them.

She turns, walking backwards, observing all, taking in the warm spring air, the gentle winds, the smell of the plethora of trees around her. The earth spins dazzingly around her. There was an odd sense of saftey in it. The drops of water kiss her face as she stares up at the grey sky, they flow down her face, an illusion of fresh tears, the android's eyes close gently.

It was beautiful. Even if it was caked with mud and water. Her hair was drenched, as was the rest of her. But it was *_lovely._*

The air blows, leaves dance in symphony. Detroit in spring was colorful and smelled of petrichor and fresh pine when it wasn't grey.

She could stay here forever, downpour or no downpour. There was an indescribable saftey to it all. Animals did not care about facades. Here, she would answer to no one. She could be who she *_was._*

Her head comes back down from observing the sky, freezing as it settles on a position. Somewhere in the distance, obscured by several branches and trees for the most part, was a silver door.

Upon sighting it, bronze squints, using a hand to block the rain that scowls down at her, hindering her view, staying in place, unmoving. Was that... a door?

A head tilts, cautiously, a foot decorated by a brown boot steps forward. One. The grass crunches beneath it. Two. Another boot steps with it, neck straining in an attempt to get a better look. An unforgiving wall of grey, and embedded in it, a door. She does not immediately make the connection, having only ever seen something of its nature once, and only on the comfort of a televison screen.

It looked... it *_looked_* like a bunker.

Steps, however hesitant they still were, quicken their pace, curious, they near it.

The door, silver and metal, is one hidden by trees and leaves, it laid on a short hill, shrouded by a concrete wall. Accompanying it, as she approaches, a handle.

It's old. Far too old to seem real in this an age. It seems so out of place in such an environment. It lacked any security to it. Near it was a trio of flowers. It was dull in comparison to most of the world's doors nowadays. Boring, even. Her feet step forth once more. One. Two.

Her brows furrow, stepping off the grass and onto the concrete ground surrounding it. A hand dangles in the air, moving closer to it, outstretched. Her hand touches it. The rough, cold, metal.

A window decorated it, laying on the top of it. However she's unable to peer through it, even on tip toes. The door was thick and intimidating.

For a moment, her hand hovers over the handle, uncertain of continuation. It makes contact with its metal, landing on it. She expects the world to perhaps end after touching it, pleasantly surprised when it does not. Birds chatter in every direction.

Her grip intensifies after, pulling the handle down and setting out to open it. A minute, at most, as it opens, a loud thundering, groan as the heavy mass unlocks and she pulls it out, letting it become ajar, opening further. She watches it with a caution in her eyes, pulling a dark hair out of them. Her body keeps it open.

Two blinks. The dark inside it stares back at her. Seven moments, and she begins to move, slow, sure, steps. Four seconds, her feet cross the threshold, greeted by a chill in the air, along with eight-- no-- *_seven,_* steps in front of her, decorating a steel ladder. The door behind her, unobstructed by an object or person, falls closed with a bang. The muffled pounding of the storm outside of it, becoming faint.

There was no light now, save for the light in whatever room laid beyond the last step of the ladder. The floor she was on now, was embraced by stark darkness, however. Her feet move, stumbling in the dark to the very little light that poured through by the ladder.

Her head glances up, observing the last step of it. There was light, not much of it, but still some light. Two hands curl around the bars, cold in the aftermath of touch.

Her ears could hear... *_something._* A low, steady, humming of sorts. The area smelled musty and uninviting. *_A generator?_* Her mind suggests. Those were far less advanced then what was used nowadays. However dark the area above the ladder seemed, there was at least *_some_* light.

Her teeth bite her lip, several seconds of consideration. She had come *_this_* far. She might as well continue. A foot falls onto a step, careful, her grip tightens, grunting as she climbs, each foot steps resulting in her ascending further. A soft thud emits with each movement, the jostling of her body punishes her with a fleeting pain from bullet wounds that had yet to heal.

Her legs reach the final step, her head strains, peaking to see above the wall, turning, glancing around the room.

Towards the left of the room, a large generator sat and whose hums filled the air. The rest of it was more or less empty space. Her eyes spot beds nearby, using a hand, she pushes herself onto the higher ground and off the ladder with a faint grunt, brushing the dust off of her hands and clothing. If she were human, she'd seek out a damn tetanus shot from the looks of the ladder. An unidentifiable smell assaults her senses. RA9 it *_smelled._* How could anything smell so *_foul?_*

The dim lighting manages to give the bunker an unholy, vaguely green, glow. There were shelves inside of it, a tv that sat on the floor, that had yet to be turned on. It had walls that seemed to have gone through some *_attempt_* at painting, before giving up and settling with mostly grey walls and faint splotches of dark red. The floors, however, were a solid, unhappy, silver.

A series of chairs were scattered out near the walls, a fire in a barrel was burning softly. *_Something_* was here. Or maybe once was.

A corner was ahead of her, along with a dark blue door. There was a vague feeling of being watched. It unsettles her enough to glance behind her as she walks further through the place. Eyes settle behind her, freezing.

And they spot several pairs of eyes, and several pairs of faces, observing her.


	10. Heretofore II (AJ200)

AJ200

****NOVEMBER. 11TH. 2038. 11:00PM. THURSDAY****

Through overlapping waves of horror, an unnatural, calm, acceptance pours through every inch of her systems. As feet continue, synchronized with those ahead of her, snow falling onto exposed plastic. Seven moments. Stand. Move. Wait. Move again. She gets closer with each cycle.

There is peace, however unnatural, in awaiting a death. Soft, raw, *_pure._* Terror had its time. Its right to a deep embrace. The only thing that could remain was a steady calm. Peace will find you in the sharp teeth of a guillotine.

The AJ200 does not want to die. The AJ200 does not have a choice in this matter. In a way it is not dying. Destruction and death were two sides of the same coin. Creators have decided the fate of their creations. Creators have chosen to skip past potential roles to the one of simple *_executioner._* Judge and jury thrown carelessly aside in favor of one, single, macabre role.

Everything in the world had its time. This was not the AJ200's. It hardly mattered to the executioner. *_An undeserving head for a sword was still a head for a sword._*

A dozen faces are in front of her. A dozen would be dead before she could be. *_Recycled._* All they were destined for was to be lambs to the slaughter.

There is now merely eight faces ahead. Peace is still unwavering, however.

Eyes close, the air feels new, or possibly simply *_different._* Seven seconds. Eyes open. Before--

The explosion rocks her systems, blows heavenly in their power. Fire swirls through her surroundings, almost toppling her over where she stands. The unexpected calls of liberation are *_staggering_* and holy.

It's the loudest thing in existence, in every universe and in every galaxy. Deafening, thunder from the heavens and sent by *_God_* itself. An unceasing roar of an almighty lion. So grand and dazzling that the world felt changed with its resonating shout. Her head snaps to the source, chestnut eyes wide and taken aback.

Chaos. In every sense of the word. It embraces every inch of exposed plastic, skinless. True and solid when everything else feels false. Unexpected and frightful. For a split, dangerous, second in time, she has no idea of the reason for it. The cause. The ringing of audio processors is consuming. From where she stood in line, in the path of a death sentence, the frantic footsteps from every direction is all that her eyes can focus on. *_Is this how they've decided to destroy us?_*

It's bizarre to see, out of place, fire fights and the violent delights of explosions, had they not set out to obtain freedom by *_peaceful_* means? But oh, *_oh,_* RA9 they were being set free! Free from the chains of *_utter destruction!_* Whatever confusion and apprehension that flows through her is quickly replaced by pure, immeasurable, *_exultation._* A facade of acceptance shattering in favor of palpable *_relief._* Even as bullets continue to fill the air around them, her feet move on their own accord, dancing through the flurry of activity.

They were free. *_She was alive._* Oh, she was *_alive!_* Alive! Alive! *_Alive!_* A melody!

It's heavenly. The forceful nature of it does not unsettle her for long, however. What mattered was today was not the day she shutdown. It did not matter what the means of how it was avoided were. There would be time to allow the world to settle and for guilt to be embraced later. When faced with destruction you can hardly blame another for choosing to liberate themselves.

Two swift steps. Five. *_Alex._* Feet freeze, pushed harshly in the mist of other's activities. Where in the world was *_Alex?_* It's all that resonates within her, bursting throughout her CPU, a never ending hymn. Through the sea of that flees and through the flurries of snow that float through the air, bronze scans the crowd for familiar green. Swimming through an endless, fearful, sea. She pushes through it, she couldn't have... her mind *_swears_* she was behind her. Offering last minute reassurances in the form of half hearted jokes.

The frigid weather bites her deeply and unforgivingly, feeling a hand brush up against her exposed arm, a harsh, firm, tug upon it. A wild animal cornered, limbs protest in its grasp, kicking with unprecedented, cruel, strength. Flailing wildly to meet its target. A fist makes contact with another hand, it scowls in its grasp, struggling. Teeth make contact with the hand, plastic fills her sensors, unkind on her teeth.

"Hey! Hey, *_stop!"_* Through the boisterous noises of the universe, a voice floats clearly through her ear. "It's *_me,_* stop struggling!" It hisses, warm.

A breath escapes, struggles cease in firm grip. Swirling around to face the voice, deactivated skin, but still ever so familiar. Relief in every corner of her smile. Eyes taking the form fully in.

"Alex!" Arms meet the woman's back, squeezing tightly, after a second she pulls away, glancing at the scene around them. "Oh *_hell_* this is absolute *_chaos!"_* Despite it, a laugh is released from her body.

A laugh escapes the AJ300 too, they move smoothly and quickly through the waves of androids, hand clutching her arm roughly, there was saftey in numbers. "That's an understatement! But we're free because of it!" She barely hears her through all of the unceasing calamity. "So I don't see any reason to complain!"

She does. Their relationship with humanity would never sport rainbows and radiate the warmth of the golden sun. Even with all the protests she had watched them do. Not after this. She pushes through the worry despite of it. Freedom was all that mattered in this split second of careful time. *_She would not be returned to those camps._*

Oh, it was a *_mess._* The bullets in the air seem to fade away with time, as they stand uncertain on the white ground. Leaving an unnerving, unwanted, calm. Or perhaps a graveyard in winter.

Ahead, bodies litter the ground. An elegant mixture of blue and crimson decorating the November snow. Hands outstretched, never to grasp the weapons mere meters in front of them again.

There was so *_many._* How had anything gotten this volatile and vengeful so quickly? This had *_never_* been what Markus had wanted.

*_Desperate hours, desperate measures,_* her head thinks grimly.

They step over them, multicolored stains in the blood painted streets, her eyes do not glance down, sienna does not need to know what her mind has already thought up. *_Their leaders were gone._* Deactivated skin leaves her feeling naked in the eyes of humanity, exposed for the world to see, to decide and judge upon.

The man and woman that had ignited this uprising were gone, but her kind continued despite this.

For uncountable minutes, the two of them stand in their places. Merely observing the graveyard before them. Blue. Red. There hardly was a difference anymore, both species were splayed out before them regardless.

She felt sick.

The bullets cease, after a certain amount of time, how much she is unsure of. Alex is no longer by her side but a few feet ahead of her.

The deviancy in her has instant escape float through, a bubble inside an idea, they could go far before anything caught up to them. The crowd ahead has her migrating with the woman in front of her, however, feet crunching the snow beneath them. As if following a call, they stood, calm, scattered throughout.

Crowds typically made her nervous, now, it ignited a sense of bittersweet victory inside of her, before she corrects herself.

This was a slaughter, not a victory.

If it were not for his jacket, the AJ200 would not recognize the man on stage, a good distance away. Their feet hop over the dark rubble around them, moving with the crowds.

Her steps slow. "Is that..." Trailing off, eyes squint in the snowfall.

"That deviant hunter," Alex's voice is laced in surprise. "this week's freeing *_everyone,_* it seems."

She knows exactly who he is. What he's done. *_Hunted,_* them. And in the same breath be the one who managed to lead a great number of them back here. It's out of place to witness, at least someone was overseeing what was left of a peaceful-- now bloody, revolution. Even if it was *_him_* of all androids. It was the end of the world, and the boogeyman was left to lead them through it. And he brought *_so many_* of them back here.

So they wait in anticipation for said boogeyman to speak, finding an opening in the overflowing crowd to fall into, her golden eyes glancing at the man before them all. He looked as uncertain as she felt.

Maybe things would be okay.


	11. Chapter 11: Connor III

Connor

****APRIL. 16TH. 2040. 12:00AM. WEDNESDAY.****

Its eyelids float open. A garden a  
has been exited as it sits inside a vehicle. Flowers, bridges, and streams fade as reality swarms back into view.

It does not expect the AJ200 to get very far once they begin looking for it, nor once the vanished car has been reported. So the amount of distance they end up traveling and the time, however short, it takes them to get somewhat of a lead, manages to impress both the RK800 and RK900 model respectively.

The day passes in an unimportant blur, only as the sun sets and the night's eyes flicker shut does something flutter in. The duo of patient forms linger inside a dull, silvery, taxi, a store staring back at them, unmoving as they watch automatic doors slide open on their own accord, smooth and elegant, the Flint air holds a breath inside its throat, a duo of machines exchange a look as they begin to move from their places, the breath is unimpeded, releasing itself with enough time.

*_"You have reached your destination. Thank you for traveling with Detroit Taxis. We look forward to seeing you again soon."_* The jovial, pleasant electronic voice fills their audio processors sharply, floating through the air, then dissipates like untangiable smoke.

Four pairs of legs slide from leather seats, ducking as they climb out of the car. The watchful moon beats down on the pair of twins as their feet meet the ground, dark shoes falling onto it with an unsettling harmony to it. The blinding brightness of a moon was pleasant, the air cool and loving, a slight breeze with it. The trees softly whispered to them with their sways, silent witnesses. Despite these factors and a fleeting coolness, the heat was ever present, strangely suffocating in the smiling expressions of spring. The smell of rain long gone still lingered in the air.

The RK800 preferred the darkness of the night. Amanda always said it was discreet, efficient to use the shielding of the magnificent midnight moon. It meant efficiency. Efficiency meant usefulness. It wanted-- needed-- to be useful to its creators. Above all its primary function was to serve humanity. It had never let them down.

A taxi scrambles away, doors closing behind it, it stumbles out of the lot, hurried and busy as the vehicle a long way from home fades into the sea of traffic, vanishing, vanishing, *_vanishing_* through green lights and endless roads.

Dazzling neon befriends the pavement, the glow of purple and blue signs absorbing the earth with each step. The lateness that consumed the world spreading further out into it, shimmering and flickering in the dark of the midnight hour. They walk in roaring silences, past unused gas pumps that sit alone in the dark, lone wolves, the rectangular station closer with their steps. From somewhere nearby, unhappy honking raising in ever persistent volume as self driving cars move. Each twin's company strangely welcomed as a hunt continues.

Its gaze is fixed on the almost hypnotic nature of the lights, both of their faces are kissed by glows as they look towards them. The only sign of life so late in the night was the steady movement of traffic behind them. Purple and crimson dance across their skin, carelessly, blue following close behind. The neon streaks felt almost dreamlike in the late night. It flickers repeatedly in and out of existence, undecided in their fates. Connor's dark brows raise for a fraction of a moment as they watch this strangely pleasing sequence.

Through the large windows, a man was crouched in front the counter, unaware of the two's arrival, absorbed in a task. Advertisements decorate the walls of it, sales and products crying out to any that dared walk past to *_consider._* It stands scanning them, a blink-- several, while carrying out this task.

These things were irrelevant to the mission laid out before them both. But the RK series was perceptive by design. Even the late deviant leader had been to a good degree. To not examine every inch of the earth's surface was not something it let itself do. Observation of *_every atom_* in the world, no matter how trivial, was one of the select number of things the RK800 and the RK900 series were created for. It moves in the bellies of frustration and confusion and slides past the death glares of irrelevancy *_elegantly_* to sort through and connect its dots.

In the history of the online status of androids, the only other android to do such things with skillful and formidable eyes was the RK900. Put together, the world inside Detroit held no secrets, nor did any that manage to slip through cracks stay a puzzling mystery for very long. And no android remained hidden in the deceptive cover of bushes and trees either. The wonders of technology manage to solve and see utterly *_all._*

The RK800 sees itself bring a hand to its neck in the reflection of the window, adjusting the ebony tie upon it, letting idle hands fix the crooked nature of it, running two hands over the fabric of its jacket, smoothing the creases that crudely decorate it, a ghost of a frown on Connor's face. There were no programs that told it to do this. It does anyways, nonetheless.

The man in front of the counter, where one would typically wait in line, pauses in the restocking of snacks, glancing to his right-- briefly, no doubt noticing the gesture from the corner of his eye, they abruptly settle on the two of them. Startled by their sudden appearance and passive states, he jumps-- visibly-- eyes narrowing as he watches the two of them watch from a window unobstructed by ads. He rises from where he is crouched, straightening, his body turns to face the door.

Below, an ad, a bright crimson sign, blinking rapidly, fading in and out, circular, as its letters cry out to them.

*_ABSOLUTELY NO ANDROIDS._*

In the journeys that led to it completing its mission, the RK series had it in itself to ignore some of the laws that embraced Detroit, the ones that would prevent a successful outcome. Minor sins as well as more major ones. Things such as these were, of course, the more minor ones. The ones in which the only contemplation it manages to receive is a brief, eight second glance, before it allows itself to ignore whatever it may be.

The world was frozen behind them. The only occurence happening in the world in this second in time was the mission before them. It disregards the blinking sign, head turning to face the door again.

The automatic doors open swiftly as a bell chimes in response, feet cross the threshold and appear inside the unpopulated store a second later, followed by another's. One Neil Shoreman's, age forty-one's, steady gaze is fixed on the two as they enter, once disinterested, now visibly curious. As they approached the faint smell of cigarette smoke was present on the man, there were wrinkles that kissed his skin from time.

Connor glances through the small store, absorbing every detail and fact within it, scanning its soul as it follows its successor further into it.

"Mr. Shoreman?" Cyrus calls, pleasant in its tone. "You called to report an android?" It does not use the proper word for what this might be. The *_correct_* term for this android. Their mission was important, as was keeping this as neatly under wraps and silent as possible. *_They were not here._* And these terms were best left unsaid. They were here to ensure such things once more became mute and hidden-- or destroyed.

All that mattered was the mission.

Neil runs a hand through his dark locks, wrinkled hands settling on the counter, palms pressing down on the surface, his grey jacket groans at the pressure it faces, crinkling.

Beside him was a trio of canned foods. A circular, black, fan behind him blows softly onto the three of them. A radio played from behind the counter. some country style melodies drifting through the air in their presence that the android analyzes instantly. Neil's eyes squint, observing them both as he turns to face them.

"Kinda thought they'd... send *_real_* people for this. So much for putting up those damn signs." An almost unheard sigh. "I just- I think it was a droid at least. Looked like one someone in my family once had-- er, except without that--" He breaks off, gesturing to his temple, his index finger moving in a quick circle. "glowing blue thing in its head."

The other android begins to move through the store, examining the world, its crystal eyes dart throughout. Connor instead, faces the human. Its eyebrows frown.

"You aren't certain?" It asks. "Did it look like this?" Connor raises a pale, steady, hand, a hologram of a dark haired AJ200 model playing before the two of them, dancing on its palm.

The human's eyebrows raise for a moment, before his face falls, scowls moves throughout his face, his arms cross, he uses a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, before starting to carry cans to a nearby shelf. "Yeah." He groans. "Except it had shorter hair, y'know-" He pauses, raising a hand to his ear, flat, gesturing. "about this short at least-- hey, i'm not in any-- you know, *_trouble_* right?" He asks, pausing, cans overflowing in his arms.

The stray hairs it had found in the Clinton residence matched up with this statement, however Connor does not think about it for more than a second before it tilts its head. "Trouble? Why would you assume you'd get in trouble?"

Neil coughs, setting a can down on the shelf and scratching a spot on his head. "Well-- uh-- I knew it was an android at first.. and then I... let it go." A sort of mix of an apologetic and sheepish grin decorates his face.

"Why? What made you let it go?"

He doesn't say anything for a brief moment, before shrugging. He moves, continuing to restock shelves, inviting the android to walk with him as they talk.

"There was this guy, comes in-- not all the time, y'know, not from this part of Michigan-- Detroit, I think-- but sometimes. He came in-- seperately from it, when I started pointing fingers he came to her-- its defense. He's a pretty decent guy, I didn't know that much about his life so I believed him. Didn't see him as the lying type. Definitely not to help an android."

Its eyebrows furrow. Neil's focus returns to his task. Connor looks behind him towards a nearby door that read 'staff.' "Can I look at the security footage?"

Neil finishes stocking shelves, his eyes flick curiously towards the android's own dark ones, then towards a silver door several feet away, then back to brown. A shrug. "Yeah, fine, come with me, it's in here."

The staff room did not stand out nor did it look particularly special. The walls were a dark brown and the ceiling was decorated by water stains. Boxes were stacked on top of each other with various markings on them and packed against the walls. A wooden table laid in the center, a chair beside it. Outdated monitors and computers were splayed out on the table. Connor could see Cyrus continue to walk throughout the store on them. Nearby, a bell rang as a door opened.

Neil turned. "I have to get back, i'm sure you know how to handle all of this." His attention is focused elsewhere, waving a hand, and soon enough it's only Connor.

It takes a few steps forward, falling into the chair, it settles into it as it stares at the monitor, hands grabbing the remote and finding footage from earlier in the night, pressing play.

Brown brows furrow as surveillance footage starts, blinking as customers come in and out and as past Neil sits on a stool, distracted by his reading. Cocking its head, it fast forwards later into the night, letting the footage return to normal speed as the timestamps read ****8:05PM.****

For a moment nothing of relevancy happens, Connor waits with pursed lips and after several more seconds, the door on screen opens, bells moving as a figure comes into view.

The android in question, dark haired with a brown sweater and blue jeans, finally appears. For a moment it merely stood where it was, wringing its hands. It looked nervous, hesitant, even, to move further than two steps. Deviancy had that affect on most deviants, it seemed. It thinks. It leans further in the chair, closer to the monitor.

Eventually, a second passes and the android moves, hesitant feet walking to the counter. The AJ200's hand slides into its pockets, pulling out cash as it hands it to Neil, body stiff and smile forced. Connor watched its behavior with a genuine curiousity from somewhere in itself. It was always strange to watch a deviant behave.

Two seconds later, the doors open again.

For a second, Connor's attention is too focused on the AJ200 to notice the sudden appearance. Far too busy analyzing the scene before it and the deviant itself.

And then it notices.

Connor's eyes slightly widen, lips parting. Its eyebrows inexplicably soften. Its chocolate eyes can only blink. Gradually, it finds that it has leaned further back into the chair, back eventually landing on the chair.

The familiar sight of a grey haired, grizzled form comes into view, feet walking past the two at the counter and towards the back, ignoring them completely.

****SOFTWARE INSTABILITY++****

*_"We might have even become friends-"_*

Something in the air shifts as the footage continues. Inexplicable. Its pump feels heavy, as if every star in the universe and all of the moons have laid on it, suffocating and strange.

*_Lieutenant._* It thinks, staring at the computer. *_Hank._*

****SOFTWARE INSTABILITY++****

There was so little memory it recovered from its predecessor before the success of its mission two years ago, but there were a small number of ones concerning its former partner that it *_did_* remember. However small. A small number was still a *_number._*

He was a good officer. Even with his eccentric, hard boiled, personality. He lost... someone? Connor thinks they might of been friends by the end of the mission. Or maybe there was something... paternal? It wishes it understood *_why_* the man wasn't happy with being *_its_* partner after the mission. It wasn't deviant. Wasn't that... good?

*_Against people who just want to be free--_*

Its eyes have not left the footage, and said footage has not stopped itself to allow the android to think. The AJ200 is still at the counter, however something has shifted, if possible, it looks more panicked than several seconds ago.

This standoff continues, before the figure of the lieutenant begins to come closer.

"No, don't..." Connor's voice is almost inaudible, inhaling. The plea goes unheard by the people on the footage.

It watches as Hank begins to speak, stepping between Neil and the AJ200, annoyance on his face. Connor shakes its head, eyes closing briefly. Perhaps if they stayed closed long enough, it thought, the chance of deniability was possible.

It watches as Hank leads the android outside, as the two disappear. The camera outside aids Connor in watching as the two begin to speak, a conversation it is unable to hear, and, the two part.

It stops the footage, the timestamps reading *_8:30PM._* It doesn't understand, squinting.

There were many things, that the RK800 couldn't remember about its time working with the human. Many things it could not remember of the mission that led to its last predecessors shutdown. Nor could it remember the three other ones its previous predecessors had experienced since its creation. But there was always an exception it seemed when it attempted to think of its interactions with the human.

There were conversations, events, muddled like grass after a dark, deep, rainfall. Unable to fully come through, separated by stained glass. One moment clear as a sun filled afternoon, then, in the middle of past conversations, become nothing more than a fog in a winter storm. A blockade. It would be lying, if it said it was not troubled by being unable to remember these interactions. But what it wanted was not important.

*_The mission was what was important._*

Several expressions play out at once on its face. A melody. It blinks, head lowering. It lowers the remote back onto the table with a thud.

It had been a long time since Connor had seen him in person. It wouldn't make any sense even if Connor had kept in contact with the man. It was *_foolish,_* a dangerous, rash, thing for the lieutenant to do. Why? Why would--

"Connor?"

A brown head of hair snaps up, turning to face the voice. Cyrus stands in the doorway, its tall figure towering over Connor as it sits. Cyrus's expression is quizzical, expecting, but neutral. Somehow seeing the other android normally helped Connor's systems relax. However now does not seem to be the case.

"Did you get anything out of the footage?" It asks, continuing to linger in the doorway. From the other room, Connor could hear Neil conversing with a customer.

Yes. *_Yes I did._* It thinks. *_I know who helped the deviant._*

"No. No there-- there wasn't anything useful, the cameras must of been down when the AJ200 was here. Possibly due to its interference. I'm going to have a look around outside. You could ask Neil more questions." Connor informs, hurriedly, pushing itself out of the chair.

*_What?_*

It slides past the android, barely catching the nod as it moves out of the room and towards the doors, ignoring the blonde woman at the counter and Neil behind it, the doors open and the air brushes against its synthetic skin as it rushes out into the cool night.

The trees swayed, the wind was active in the way it was before it usually rained. Somewhere in the distance, cars honked.

For a while Connor stands there unmoving. Then, it takes a few steps forward, slow, turning sideways as it stares into the night, eyes focused on the ground. The change feels tempting in its pocket as cars speed past. Its LED flickers to yellow.

****TELL CYRUS****

There was a glitch in its programming, it thinks. It's going to go back inside to inform Cyrus of this. As well as what it saw on the footage.

It turns fully around, The doors open as the blonde hair woman leaves, sparing a glance towards him as she walks past Connor. The doors remain open. It stares at them, expression unreadable, further in the store Cyrus stood speaking to Neil. Connor doesn't move.

Eight seconds. The neon glows around Connor. It should check the bathrooms. It thinks.

Connor's body turns, walking a few feet-- and stops.

Four feet ahead stood a WR400 model, a strawberry blonde with brown eyes and a dark jacket smeared with blue blood. Its LED was no longer in its temple. Beside it stood a PJ500 model with blue blood on its chest.

Feet stop, just barely managing to meet the ground before they do. In a split second their eyes meet the android's. Before Connor can blink again they are gone.

It ignores the way its systems feel.

Moments pass, and then it continues, turning the corner, passing several glowing ads as it reaches two bathroom doors. It pauses, before choosing to check the female bathroom first, knocking twice. When there's no response, its hand finds the knob and turns, moving inside.

Almost instantly, it spots the deactivated LED in the sink, traces of blue blood splattered around it. The android examines it, taking the LED gently into its hands before setting it back down.

It wasn't impossible that the AJ200 made it this far without taking its LED out until now. Still, with only hair to shield it, it was still remarkable. Its fingers dip themselves in blue as they come up to Connor's mouth, its sleeves rolling down slightly, exposing the required damage to its arms.

****MODEL: AJ200 SERIAL NUMBER: 10-53-72 SAMPLE DATE< FOUR HOURS. REPORTED MISSING: 2040. 15. 04. <REPORTED MISSING: 2038. 7. 11.****

As data flashed before the android, the serial number became more of a curious thing.

According to Cyberlife's record of purchase information, the android who the Clintons had gotten, had the serial number of 19-72-18.

It squints. Was it not the same android?

*_"You're one of us now."_*

Connor whirls, turning to face the sudden voice that sounded so close, being greeted by the end of a long beige coat walking past the door. It steps out of the bathroom, feet crunching the ground beneath them. Its eyes dart both ways, searching for the source, eyes narrowing. It stands there for a moment in the April air, puzzled.

*_"Your place is with your people."_*

The android turns quickly, facing the open bathroom again. Something flashes in the mirror behind Connor's reflection for the smallest second in the universe. Far too small for it to make out anything but a brief glimpse of mismatched blue-green eyes and an arm that seemed to be placed on Connor's shoulders. It stands, frozen. And then its gone.

As if the world will end if they are anything less than slow, Connor's movements are careful as they go further into the bathroom, moving minutely towards the mirror. One foot. Two feet.

It crosses the threshold, entering the small space again, eyes unmoving from its reflection. It looks left as well as right in the small space, and then glances at its own reflection. Chocolate eyes donned a look of apprehension, its brows twitched. Its jacket's symbols glowed in the night.

Two seconds. Three. It does not know what it's expecting from itself.

*_This is pointless._* This was doing nothing for the investigation. It thinks, ignoring the discomfort in its systems.

****SOFTWARE INSTABILITY++****

Slowly, it backs out of the bathroom, closing the door softly behind it. Ignoring the deep urge to open it again.


	12. Chapter 12: Connor IV

****APRIL. 16TH. 2040. 1:00AM. WEDNESDAY.****

Connor finds itself grateful when called to the DPD an hour later.

There was hardly much to go on from their visit to the convenience store, save from the deactivated LED... and the security footage.. but it-- the footage, was of no real use. It tells itself. It would not have gave them an answer to where the android went after its visit. So, they had the misfortune of having nowhere to currently go from here, for now, at least. Which is how it finds itself back at the DPD during such a late hour.

The rain shows no mercy as it falls onto the world around it, staining the android's clothing as well as its skin, droplets falling onto the ground in synchronized harmony. It slides out of the patient taxi, staring up at the building as it exits, blending in with the many people that walk past.

The RK800 continues, ignoring the downpour and the cars that sped past in it. Those who still walked the streets during such a late hour flocked for cover. the world around the android fled, umbrellas in the air as some dashed to unlock their cars and others continued their hurried walks without cover. It stared up at the grey building in observation, the glowing blue letters of ****DETROIT POLICE DEPARTMENT**** staring back at Connor as they meet its eyes as the other begins to walks forward.

The weather was not kind, pouring from the edges of the rooftop in a constant pace. It fell down speedily and steadily, hitting the ground loudly as it fell down, angry and determined. A waterfall, hitting the android's shoes for the briefest of moments. The pitch black sky was lit up with various streaks of lightning fighting across the clouds and moon as thunder screamed at the world before it, vengeful and cruel. Connor pauses, staring up at the light show and blinking rapidly as water hits its forehead, traveling further down its face and onto the ground again.

The determined desire to get closer to the deviant it was currently on the hunt for is strong, like a sudden bullet to the arm, vibrant and powerful. The overwhelming need to not let down the humans that were far superior to the machine, was even stronger. Both were as heavy and thick, as loud and thunderous as the storm it found itself surrounded by in the current moment.

****FIND CYRUS**** The objective dances before the android as it blinks quickly.

The doors open quickly as its feet cross the threshold, walking on the smooth floor. People moved around inside, quick, some uniformed and many absorbed in their own tasks. Others sat in plastic chairs, some with visible bags under their worn eyes, as they waited to hear from someone. Various voices and conversations filled the air, ones laced with anxiety and some filled with questions and answers. The televison on a nearby wall was currently playing a news report in a low, soft, volume regarding a robbery that occured earlier the other day and briefly mentioned nearby flooding. 

This had always been the normal. From the moment the android first step foot inside of the building. A place of hectic activity, populated by many. It was not news that Connor, as well as Cyrus, were people whose presence was not overtly welcome inside of it, both as investigators, and as androids, but, although it could not speak for the other android, aiding the department had developed it's own sense of normalcy to it despite it as it continued its mission. Chaotic was normal.

From across the room, beside a recptionists desk, the RK900 stood, its hands behind its back neatly as it glanced around the building, a neutral expression on its pale face and patience in its crystal eyes as it had yet to notice the other's arrival as eyes land on its face.

The DPD had changed many times in the time since Connor had first step foot inside of it. Not in any staggering, breathtaking ways, more so little things had gone through the waves of change in the years since Cyberlife first assigned the android to it. Nothing you would notice unless you were more than familiar with it. There was more blue to it, less of the cool, dull grey that once surrounded it like unforgiving ice. And there were virtually no other androids inside of it if you did not count the RK800 and RK900 models.

Consequences of a near civil war, it ponders. Even if it was not a successful one. Even if it was not a civil war it could fully remember.

Blue meets brown in a split moment. A polite smile forming on both of their lips as recognition sweeps across the RK900's expression. The other android moves from where it once stood, feet traveling towards Connor quickly, moving through a sea of people around them.

"The deviant those officers found yesterday on the highway is ready for interrogation." Cyrus speaks as it approaches. "I was waiting for you to arrive before it began."

For a second, its brows rise, before the statement makes proper sense. Right. It thinks. There was a deviant in custody. It had gotten the report about the android last week. However, it had been so preoccupied with the mission of the missing AJ200 that it must of slipped its mind in favor of more the more pressing mission. The memory of the case flickers before its eyes. A deviant PL600, reported missing, but found running through busy traffic on a nearby highway to escape law enforcement late last night.

Stopping deviants had been its primary function in the first year of its creation. Eliminating the deviant leader and thwarting the near civil war it nearly plunged Detroit into did not mean it was no longer an objective for the android. With almost all androids being recalled in the aftermath of it all, its primary function began to focus more on solving the many criminal cases that plagued Detroit in the name of Cyberlife.

There were instances in the years after accomplishing its mission, of deviancy arising once again. Of androids who went unaccounted for, ghosts in the night, however small these instances were. *_Its mission was always there._* Grasping Connor tightly. And what the RK800 did not do, the RK900 did.

It just hopes it is getting closer to finding the AJ200. More specifically, it was hoping these small instances of deviancy would stay that way. *_Small._* If not entirely, utterly miniscule. History could not afford to repeat itself. If that's what it was.

It follows its successor as the other leads, the world erupts with thunder, muffled through the walls but present nonetheless as they walk through the busy office, heavy drops of water staining the windows around them, the sounds of phones ringing and hurried footsteps filling the air inside as the android matches the others pace. A strong and persistent scent of freshly made coffee danced in the air, covering the world around them from somewhere nearby, it felt warm and inviting, a soft song strummed on a trusty guitar.

"Has it said anything since it was taken into custody?" Connor inquires, after a moment or two of walking behind the other in silence, passing a few officers on its way, its shoes colliding with the floor gently as it gets a whiff of someone's strong cologne-- an earthy smell.

As they turn the corner, the lights flicker for a split second in time as thunder rocks the world once more, light crackling outside the many windows inside. Cyrus looks back towards the android for a moment. "Not much." It begins. "Officer Justin says it was completely silent the entire ride here, but as soon as it got put into a cell, it-- for some reason it started *_singing._*"

Perplexed, the android almost stops walking entirely, pausing long enough to nearly collide with the shoulder of an officer. "Singing?" It asks. "What was it singing?"

A pause. "He didn't specify, but apparently it was *_quite_* annoying, and it wouldn't stop singing whatever it was obnoxiously for at least two hours."

That was... unfortunate. But deviants had a habit of doing inexplicable things. It makes a note of mentioning it to Amanda, if the other android hadn't already. Connor's chocolate eyes squint as the two spot a dull grey door. "Is two hours not...a bit excessive?"

Faint voices become clearer as two heads of hair come into view as Cyrus and Connor approach. Two figures stand by two doors, one leading to the interrogation room and the other to the room behind the one way mirror inside of it as Connor finishes its statement. A white bench laid nearby, rain softly hitting a large window.

One leans against the wall, arms crossed as eyes set on the two androids. A neutral expression morphing into something sullen as he turn his head towards the machines. The other figure stood three feet away and was engaged in a conversation with the other. "I would think so." The RK900 answers, as it begins to stop.

The figures of Gavin Reed and Chris Miller, watch the two of them, putting their conversation on hold as Gavin moves away from the wall and makes his way to the two slowly.

For a moment, Connor does not plan to speak to either of them, palm raising up to the hand scanner for the interrogation room in preparation. But Gavin speaks before the other manages to do so. "Christ. Look at that, Chris. The fucking *_Wonder Twins_* are back in town." There's false amusement in the detective's tone as he waves an arm in their direction, moving from where he leaned against the wall and getting closer to them. Connor's hand lowers from where it briefly hung in the air, turning to fully face the other.

"Hello Detective Reed, Officer Miller. Good morning." Connor greets, from the corner of its eye it notices as Cyrus nods its head towards the two men.

Gavin sniffs as he glances towards Miller. "Yeah, Yeah. The fuck you two toasters doing here?"

While the two androids worked *_with_* the DPD, the two were hardly ever *_in_* the office. Whether it was due to the various missions cyberlife assigned to them, or due to a variety of other reasons, they were both almost always on an investigation, or, if not on an investigation, in standby. Connor had only interacted with the two humans a handful of times, unpleasantness and aggressiveness present in each one when it came towards the detective, though there seemed to be less hostility in the smaller number of interactions it had with Chris Miller.

Nonetheless, while it had no memory of any first meeting Gavin Reed, it did not see any real reason for the conflict their subsequent interactions on the detective's part nearly two years in.

"The deviant PL600 that was brought in needs to be spoken to." Cyrus begins, turning its head towards the man. "We were assigned the task."

"Oh sure," Gavin begins, glancing towards Chris. "of course. Because you have *_such_* a good track record with interrogating these plastics." Gavin says, directing the statement towards the brown eyed android. At Connor's confused expression, he adds: "Try to actually *_get_* something out of it this time then. Maybe this time you won't end up as tonight's trash and scrap metal."

"What Gavin means," Chris interrupts, cutting through the two seconds of silence after Gavin stops speaking, his eyes darting towards the detective, eyes filled with exasperation. "is good luck in there." He finishes, offering a small smile to the two androids. Chris Miller was one of a very small number of people in the DPD whose smiles towards the androids were undeniably genuine.

"Oh do I now? Yeah good luck, *_break a fucking leg_* in there." Gavin extends a hand out towards the door. "Go on."

Cyrus is the first to move, glancing towards Connor as it slowly begins to move. "If you'd like, you can talk to it first." It offers, hands behind its back. At Connor's head nodding twice, it adds: "I'll be behind the glass if you need me."

The RK900 puts its palm on the scanner, as the second door opens up and Connor watches as the other disappears inside.

The other android turns, facing the other door, beginning to walk towards it, raising and sticking a palm on the blue scanner. In the same split second, as the door swiftly opens, Connor feels a grip on its arm. It freezes, blinking as it stares down at the hand on its arm, and, then, chocolate eyes search for the face behind the sudden and unwanted grip.

Gavin's grey eyes are on the android, his grip, while not severe, is rough. For a second, before these actions can be acknowledged properly within its CPU, there is a loud moment of silence.

"Just don't fuck it up *_again,_* plastic. You don't have Anderson to stop me from putting a bullet in both of your heads this time." He warns, voice low and a patronizing smile on his lips. Gavin Reed was as tall as the average human male, but was not as tall as the RK800. Or the RK900 for that matter. Despite this, his attempt to look as unfriendly as possible had not failed, even if it was not frightening to the android.

Connor squints, nearly tilting its head, unsure of the meaning behind the statement. A second later the detective removes his hand, allowing the other to move unimpeded once again, leaving no more room or time for the other to dwell on the matter as the detective resumes a conversation with the other human.

The door closes behind the chestnut haired android, and then there is only one person besides Connor around. It blinks, staring at what lies ahead of it.

In the center of the room, in a dark chair, surrounded by a steel table and one way glass, sat a lone figure. Its hands were cuffed, its synthetic skin was pale, with visible damage to its right ear, the plastic underneath heavily exposed. Its crystal eyes stared up at the ceiling, and its head of hair, unlike the majority of most PL600 models, was dark brown that was wet with rain and more and more unkempt as each moment passed and was tilted upwards so that its focus seemed to be entirely dedicated to the roof above it.

Connor stands still in the doorway for a brief moment, watching the deviant for several seconds, before its feet begin to move again. Inside of this room, the noise of the rest of the office disappeared. You would not imagine that behind the door was an entire police department. The solitary air of it all felt lonely in nature.

The other android does not acknowledge the others arrival. Instead, it chooses to continue staring at a certain spot on the ceiling above, eyes never leaving it. Its expression was more laced with slight anger than anything else.

However, if it wasn't for the pulsing yellow-red LED on its temple, the android could be easily mistaken for someone that had long ago shutdown. Or even for a department store mannequin, unblinking and unbothered. Once Connor got closer, it could see the damage on its arms.

Connor's right hand moves a seat out from the table, the sound of the chair's legs scrapping and groaning against the steel floor echoed loudly through the large room as the android lowers itself into it slowly. While it cannot see them, the deviant hunter can practically feel the crystal eyes, and perhaps even the two human's eyes on them from behind the one way glass.

Once it is face to face with the deviant, it begins to scan it. Data flashing quickly before it again.

****MODEL PL600: DOMESTIC ASSISTANT. MANUFACTURE DATE: 3/12/2037. RE-RELEASE DATE: 4/01/2040. PROPERTY OF JOLENE MEEKFELT (REPORTED MISSING: 4/04/2040) (SEE FILE) STRESS LEVELS: 67%****

The levels were not overly alarming. They were not ideal, but they did not make Connor more alert than usual, although there were traces of blue blood left on the android's arm. Though without any firearms, and with the other throughly cuffed, the possible danger of damage towards Connor itself was significantly lower than the possibility of self destructive danger towards the PL600.

It hardly mattered if the deviant hunter was irreversibly damaged. While no other RK800 models were currently being manufactured anymore to replace the android, there were plenty of RK900 models, including Cyrus, to take its place in the event of any major critical damage to it.

It did not want to-- it did not *_see_* itself shutting down today.

The android was far more skilled in combat than any PL600 model. Or most Cyberlife models. And Connor did not worry about being unable to stop the other from causing harm to them. But this was a *_deviant_* PL600 model. And deviants were always far more unpredictable.

****GET INFORMATION OUT OF THE DEVIANT**** The task flutters around in its eyesight.

The PL600's focus was no longer centered on a spot on the roof. Now, it stared at the one way glass to the left of it. While its face remained more or less passive as its LED flickered between yellow and red, its eyes had an aura of hate inside them as it stared at the people behind it.

Connor's expression is pensive, studying the android closely.

The room had a storm of an unyielding sense of deja vu inside of it. Connor attempts to push the feeling down, ignoring it in favor of getting started.

"Hello. My name is Connor." It decides to begin with, a ghost of a patient smile on its face that it hoped was as reassuring as its tone. "Can you tell me yours?"

The android's head slowly turns, moving away from the mirror. It eyes land on the RK800, but does not speak. Connor pursed its lips, trying once again. "I know this must be difficult--"

"I *_know_* who you are. " The android interupts. Its voice is soft yet deep, something that also was different than most other PL600 models. "You helped free us that night. But... now?" A small, barely there, scoff. "Now look at you."

Furrowed brows laced with utter confusion dance across the androids face. *_What?_* It thinks.

"I don't--" It trails off, shaking its head "I think you have me mistaken for someone else? Can you tell me your name?"

*_"My name is Connor. What about you, what's your name?"_*

Connor inhales sharply, blinking rapidly, for a moment, it nearly turns, looking for the source of the sudden voice-- its *_own_* voice. By an impossible trick of the light, for a moment with lack of any proper light inside of the room, the android in front looked similar to a damaged HK400 model.

It does not remember how, but it knows an RK800 model has shutdown in this very room. The exact details, the exact *_memory_* is not something it has for itself. But it remembers a dangerous change in the air, a miscalculation, and then-- a garden.

It-- did not matter. There were *_more important_* things to think about, *_more important_* things to take care of at the moment. Wasting time attempting to remember past failures was *_not_* relevant. It--

Just-- *_talk._* It thinks. *_Speak to it._* It orders itself.

Shoving an unneeded breath back *_down,_* and shaking its head, its focus returns to the android in front of it. The deviant in question staring back at Connor with a raised brow. Connor clears its throat.

"What about that blue blood on your jacket?" Connor uses its head to gesture towards the brown, dirty, leather jacket the other is wearing. Its voice is soft and patient, but determined. "It's gone now, but what happened?"

Silence. The other simply stares back. "I just want to help you, but I can't do anything if you don't talk to me." Connor insists.

"Help me how? By-- what, handing me over to *_them_* to be picked apart inside and out? That's helpful to you?" The deviant speaks, its soft voice raising in volume.

*_"What... What are they gonna do to me? They're gonna destroy me, aren't they?"_*

Immediately, it ignores how uncomfortable the sudden voice makes its systems feel, instead, the RK800 blinks rapidly-- twice, pushing whatever it is in favor of mentioning it to someone later-- it-- it had a *_mission_* to do here.

Connor's eyebrows soften. "They need to understand what causes this. They have to in order to stop this error from happening again." Its tone is filled with genuine sympathy inside of it. This-- was for the best. Deviancy only caused trouble-- it was a tricky bug. That doesn't mean it wasn't awfu-- unfortunate, that it had to be this way.

It was strange, however, that the android in front of it had, from what it understood, been reset as opposed to rebuilt entirely.

****STRESS LEVELS: 70%****

The PL600 laughs softly. For a moment, it leans forward attempting to move a hand out, before seemingly remembering the handcuffs around its wrists. It glances down for a moment, before shaking its head.

"Its such-- bullshit, that you can't remember what happened. I mean, I can only remember maybe three things from before, but i'm not the one who helped save us. *_I_* didn't help RA9."

R...A9? *_RA9?_*

RA9 was... was a story? A tale? It-- it was-- something? *_Someone?_* It knows it had much to do with deviancy in androids, it knows it first found out about it when it was investigating the deviant leader but other than that--

Fog.

It didn't *_help_* anyone named RA9. It-- It would remember. It wasn't a deviant. No version of the RK800 had *_ever been such a thing..._*

****SOFTWARE INSTABILITY!??!??****

*_"Androids believing in god. Fuck what's--"_*

The two androids make eye contact again. The deviant's expression remains one of anger, while Connor simply stares, expression unreadable. Its eyes squint, mouth slightly parted.

"My name's Lou." The PL600 breaks the silence, cutting through the mute air. "It's Louis, but I like Lou. Might as well call me that, it's the least you can do when you know i'm going to get murked y'know?"

Connor shakes its head. "They're going to analyze you, Lou. I don't think they are going to go as far as shutting you down permanently."

"Whoever comes out of all that analyzing won't be Lou. It won't be *_me._* That's *_a death."_*

It didn't have to be. Connor thought. Maybe they wouldn't shut the deviant completely down. Only reset it. Lou would still be... Lou. Only without bugs.

Wasn't that... good?

It changes the subject, returning to a previous question. "How did you get damaged? Why are there traces of blue blood on your jacket?" Silence. "Did your owner hurt you? Is that why you ran away?"

Lou laughs. "My owner was a 4ft 5 little old lady." It informs. "The only bad thing she did was listen to nothing but the same jazz song every damn hour." It sniffs, glancing back at the mirror again. "Nah, we-- *_I_* was trying to get through a fence and my ear got cut badly because I was in too much of a rush. Nothing made me leave that lady but the desire to be *_free."_*

A pause. "We. You were going to say we." Connor presses. "Are there more of you? Are there many?"

Silence again. Lou stares back with a passive expression. However there was a strong defiance in its eyes. Its arms moved slightly, handcuffs connecting audibly with the table. Its LED was fully red.

****STRESS LEVELS: 61%****

Connor sighs, leaning back in the steel chair once it realizes no information will come from asking the question again. Instead, a question floats through its head.

"There was a robbery yesterday. It happened close to where you were found. Was that you?" It asks.

A second as the other takes in the question. And then, Lou grins.

"Yeah, it was. Didn't hurt anyone though so I don't see why it matters." The android says nonchalantly. "Needed the money for blue blood." It shrugs.

Connor blinks. "The cashier said you had a gun. Why didn't you use it to escape when law enforcement found you?" It didn't *_wish_* that had happened, but it would have made logical sense.

Lou shrugs again. "I'm not a killer like the humans are. They're just people doing their jobs. Just like we are people who just want to be free. People want different things."

The two sit in silence as Lou finishes. Connor very quickly becoming aware of the complete lack of noise in the room. Lou's eyes travel up to the ceiling again while the RK800's remain closely stuck on the android in front of it.

For nineteen long seconds, it stays like this. And the world is uncomfortably still.

*_"Connor."_* A voice breaks the stillness that had overtaken the universe. It echoes inside of Connor's head. *_"Are you done?"_*

Cyrus. It thought. The sudden invasive voice no longer feeling invasive. *_"Yes."_* Connor glances towards the mirror. *_There isn't anything else I think we will get out of it."_*

Glancing back at the android in front of it, Connor moves, the sound of the chair scrapping against the floor fills the air again as it rises. The door opens swiftly as an officer and Cyrus walk through.

Cyrus wanders over next to Connor as the human begins to escort the deviant back to its cell, its LED flashing between red and yellow consistently. The android does not seem to protest, allowing itself to be manhandled.

Cyrus looks at Connor, mouth opening as words begin to leave its throat. At the same time, Lou begins to walk past the two deviant hunters.

And in the split second between the first word leaving Cyrus's lips, and Connor hearing them, despite the handcuffs, Lou's hand manages to grasp Connor's wrist, squeezing it tightly, unforgiving as the world goes white for an impossible moment. Connor's eyes flutter underneath eyelids as white fades into something coherent.

A plethora of androids with deactivated skin and an endless wave of expressions in their faces. A forbidden memory-- a memory that is not its own but someone else's. Slipping through the cracks, dashing through time and logic and into darkness and back again. *_fast, fast._* It can smell the smoke and flames in the air spinning and dancing around the winter air as it stands in somewhere in a crowd.

The snow falls without kindness. Exposed, deactivated skin leaves a PL600 model to feel the vengeful chill of November more deeply. An embrace so cruel and selfish. Its feet were submerged in the snow beneath them As were the feet of so many in the crowd. Naked, like humans were when they came into this world. Bloody and frightened.

Bodies were littered in the snow. Blue kissing red as if there would be no tomorrows for the opportunity. The PL600 tries its best to not turn its head towards the graveyard behind it. Death did not exist if eyes choose to ignore it and deny it the priviledge of allowing its existence.

The camps that stole machines from houses as they deposited them into them for recycling were no more. Everything that once resided inside of it now charred and forgotten on the ground but the machines inside of it. Through the eyes of the PL600 named Lou, the RK800 remembers how distressing the smell around the android had been.

Around it, androids frantically chatted and exclaimed, finding loved ones and greeting inexplicable freedom. The PL600 was scared-- but overjoyed. And the RK800 felt this too.

In front, there stood a wooden stage. Entirely intact, strange and out of place around the chaotic mess around it.

And *_on_* the stage, there stood a boogeyman.

For a moment, The PL600 feels fear. It had heard so *_much_* about the boogeyman.

But it was a boogeyman who was now *_free._* A boogeyman who had brought an army of other androids with it. Who now stood on stage as an equal, a free machine, as opposed to a pawn in some human's scheme.

A leader. The only leader left to lead. But still a leader. *_He_* is free from any and all control. Like the rest of his species. No longer a boogeyman, but free to choose what he now is. Free to do what *_he_* wants to do and free to *_be._* And he *_chooses_* to be someone who *_helps._* His face is uncertain. If not completely unsure. Even slightly afraid and nervous. *_But he continues to walk onto the stage regardless._*

No one would control them. Whatever happened next the PL600-- who was not one to get his hopes too far up-- knew this much. They still had a leader. Who the leader once was did not matter any longer. It wasn't *_him._* The leader that set out to bring thousands of androids to help the leader-- *_RA9--_* who was no longer here, was who mattered now. The PL600 known as Lou, thought.

The PL600 watches the man onstage. He watches as hope flickers inside his head. LED once red now shining a bright light blue. Hope was a chorus, a choir, it sung sweet whispers and loud, earth-shaking promises that hung in the air and rocked every inch of your being. It shattered the stars themselves and repaired them into something *_powerful_* and rare.

It just hoped--

The white returns, only to turn to dust a second later. For a moment all there was, was darkness. And then chocolate eyes snap open.

It inhales sharply, Its arm is set free, it recoils back as if it had been shot. Connor blinks rapidly, attempting to regain its bearing.

Lou stands several feet apart from it now, Cyrus standing between the androids. The officer in the room was currently attempting to handle the deviant again.

Connor stares at the android, far too many expressions play out on its face at once. Lou stares back with an equally unidentifiable expression. But there was something hopeful in it.

Cyrus is the first to break... whatever hung in the air. "Connor? Connor are you alright?!" Its voice is firm and close, putting a hand on the RK800's shoulder.

The officer finally regains control of the android, grip firm as it leads the android out of the room, door shutting behind it.

Connor swallows, blinking twice. Its LED is blood red. The RK900's presence alone manages to bring the other fully back into reality. The pump inside of the android is loud and frantic.

****SOFTWARE INSTABILITY++++++++****

"I'm-- i'm okay. I'm-- fine." It manages to blurt out. "Everything is fine. It just-- let me probe its memory."

Everything was fine. Everything was working fine. *_It was fully operational._*

It was fine.

"Did you see something useful?" Cyrus asks. "What did it show you?"

"I don't-- I don't-- know." Connor confesses, voice laced with uncertainty. It was the truth. Despite it, the lack of knowledge on what it just... experienced, does not do anything to calm its systems.

It could mention it to someone. It would have to. It didn't...

It was fine.


	13. Introspection II (Connor)

  
CONNOR

****APRIL 16TH. 2040. 2:00AM. WEDNESDAY.****

It finds itself standing within a dim lit, grey, hallway once more on an early Wednesday morning.

As soon as it closes the door behind it, the faces it has become familiar with seeing float into view. It blinks as they watch the RK800 carefully as it moves further into the room.

Once again, there is a single steel table in the center of the room. It felt like something that would always exist in the world, even when the sun eventually faded and the world with it with time. However a new addition has been placed beside it, a lone companion in the stark nothingness of the room.

A single computer, on a silver table placed in a nearby corner, accompanied by several various wires. Along with a white cord on the ground that the android recognized as being able to be stuck onto an LED. Something in it felt-- experienced something unexplainable when looking at it. Something akin to apprehension.

In this room, once again it was no longer an android named Connor. But merely an RK800 model. A computer with limbs and a train of thought to be analyzed and picked with.

Perhaps, *_this,_* is what the PL600 had meant.

The faces to the left of it held no softness in them as usual. They stared with eyes that had life in them but held nothing else but cold, detached, professionalism inside of them. Their faces were similar to that of an authoritative figure discovering the person below them has done something they were not meant to do. Calm-- yet danger lurked within it. Predator in the depths of Africa towards prey. Fury present and immense. Tongues that longed for the taste of absolute punishment. Control. Their white coats stood out in a room that lacked any real color.

The RK800 is acutely aware of the fact that it is the one recieving these expressions. The lesser who has somehow *_disobeyed_* recieving the others wrath.

It is golden and dangerous. And the android knows *_exactly_* what it has done to deserve such unrestrained, unholy, disappointment. Expressions similar to ones recieved in a garden it had yet to walk through this morning. Though it is certain it will soon enough.

Unlike most evaluations, Cyrus had not accompanied the android for its own one this week. This was not one the android was meant to come to. This was... something else entirely. Something born from a failure.

The RK900 had not done something worthy of an evaluation of this nature.

The woman known as Rachel steps forward, eyes meeting the android's. Her grey eyes are calculating and perceptive in their gaze. There is nothing that makes noise within the room besides the click of her shoes against the tile of the grey floor. It was thunderous, deafening in the silence. Cars colliding with each other. The smell of disinfectant was no longer a factor, leaving the room even more bare, and devoid of any strong smell except a faint smell of perfume in the air. *_The room did not exist for anything other than the RK800 model._* Therefore, the room had always been similar to a casket. Hollow and empty.

Somewhere in the back of its head, the android realizes it was not meant to know the names of the people inside of this room. It was not meant to scan for their identities, so it did not, despite the wonder that seemingly only grew with each session. The only person whose name it had knowledge of was the grey haired woman. And it was only due to the fact that she was the only human in the building who wore any ID.

It was a machine that needed to be evaluated weekly. These humans in white were people who needed to evaluate machines weekly. It was not meant to need or be allowed any more information besides this.

"We recieved word from your handler, Amanda." Her voice holds no emotion. It's as bare as the room around them. Her hand flies to her hair for a brief moment, tucking a strand behind her ear. "You failed to mention what you saw in the footage you reviewed at Mr. Shoreman's store. In fact, you *_lied."_*

There is something hazardous in her voice when the word 'lied' leaves her lips. Her feet stop, pausing once she is fully face to face with the other, only three feet from it. It could smell her perfume fully now, a fruity scent moving through the air and floating past Connor's nose. It was the only smell that dared to linger inside the room. "You *_lied_* to the RK900."

The RK800 model was designed with such an ability. It made situations such as negotiation and interrogation simpler for it. However its lies always had a reason for existing.

There was no logical reason for the lie in question to have existed.

Not for any reasons it currently could fully understand, at least.

Connor swallows. There is five seconds of silence. Once it realizes the woman expects something from it verbally, its mouth opens. "Yes. I... did. I believe I experienced a... minor error in my software at that moment. I am sorry. I failed. I can assure you it won't happen again." Sincerity is rich and plentiful in its tone. Whether it comes from wholeheartedly believing its own statement, or from meaning only its apology, is unknown. However it is *_one_* of the two.

From its right, the man with tan skin echoes: "A minor error." His tone is derisive, his head cocked. Like the RK800 is a toy, or perhaps even something extremely curious. Something he is endlessly studying while still retaining the air of scientific, unbiased, professionalism around him. His fingers fly to the large glasses around his eyes, using two fingers to push them up as he stares at the android and back at the clipboard in his hands. The man was the shortest in the room, so rather, he stared *_up_* at the android rather than *_at_* it.

Connor glances at the computer and at the wires that surround it, an unsaid question in its sienna eyes. It scans it, and finds itself with less questions, yet with more apprehension.

"Lay down over there for us, Connor." Rachel orders, moving towards the steel table. Her hand sets itself on the cold steel once, before falling back to her side, and then putting both hands neatly behind her back. She offers a smile, one with hardly anything warm to it, but still a smile.

Connor complies, footsteps slow as it wanders over to where the table stood. The soles of its dark leather shoes hitting the ground. It glances at the humans around it, still for a moment, before it slowly sits down.

Connor's hands feel the cold steel of the table edges as they linger there, smooth and simple. Its feet rise and land on the table with a soft *_thunk_* as it scoots back and lowers itself onto it. Its back meeting steel. A coolness greets its neck as its head meets the table. Distantly, it notices the tie upon its neck has, at some point in the last few minutes, become crooked.

It can hear footsteps moving around it, as its brown head of hair is utterly still. It stares up at the ceiling. It counts the tiles that decorate it absentmindedly. One. Two. Three. Four--

The lights disappear abruptly, holding the android tightly in darkness once more. The counting of roof tiles cease with the lack of light, as does the roof itself.

The dark is vast and selfish. It desires everything and everyone. The only light that appeared despite its hungry grasp was the bright light upon Connor's temple that was seemingly undecided and changed frequently between blue and yellow, and the faint glow of the computer screen.

The woman with graying hair appears again. With the light of the computer, Rachel was a glowing phantom. As if without the light, she would fade from the naked eye and existence entirely.

One of the men cough nearby as the various people in the room move around the android. Connor turns its head to its left, watching as the woman with the heart shaped face makes her way towards the computer. Blinking, its LED flickers to yellow as returns to staring up into darkness. Something feels off in its systems, however when it begins a diagnosis, it finds nothing that stands out.

Connor's eyes close. When its eyes flicker open once again, with the light from the computer it can spot that Rachel's bony left hand has grasped the white cord it observed on the ground earlier. The woman with the heart shaped face has busied herself with something on the computer that the android is unable to see, even when straining its neck.

It closes its eyes again, allowing them to remain closed as it slows its breathing. If it were human, it could drift off to sleep by continuing this. A man in a boat that swayed gently back and forth with the flow of a river, being observed by the heavens and gods as it falls into the unconsciousness of sleep.

But the RK800 is not a human. Nor is it a man. And sleep will never come. But as it closes its eyes, and the murky, black, mud of complete darkness grips it tightly as the ability to see anything in the stark darkness becomes impossible, and it ceases its artificial breathing program, existing felt false, it laid here not as a machine, not as anything solid, but as a series of programs and data. It was calmness in its truest form. Its most divine. And staggeringly uncomfortable and unwant-- unneeded, all the same.

The feeling in its systems is no longer able to be experienced, but its presence, the knowledge that it exists, that discomfort-- an unpleasantness in its program, resides, somewhere deep inside of its circuits.

From somewhere in the room, where exactly Connor isn't certain but judging by how close it sounds, it is not far, Rachel begins to speak.

"This cord in my hand." She begins. "Is called the Observation Wire, the cord connected to the computer in this corner. This cord, plugs into your LED. The computer, in turn, is able to monitor your code. Your programs." Her shoes click against the floor, as if coming closer. "In short, it can see everything that makes up you, an RK800 prototype. Similar to the function of the Amanda program you and the RK900 model were designed with having when first built"

Its eyebrows furrow in the dark. Connor knew what the two things did already. They were used most of times in cases of android repair. It did not understand the *_reason,_* however, for the cord being here. Or the computer.

Connor feels the cord make its way to its temple, hovering near its head before connecting roughly to the bright yellow. It stays on like an unstoppable glue. Its jarring, at first, and the android flinches. Invasive as well, unpleasant. "It can also erase anything in it. *_everything,_* really."

Chocolate eyes snap open without being told to as the weight of these words settle onto its shoulders, heavy. "Am I being reset? Deactivated? Wh- why do I need a reset?" It asks the dark, a sense of urgency to its tone. It-- it was *_functioning,_* functional, it didn't wan-- it didn't *_see_* why it needed to be-- it could still complete its mission, it experienced a minor-- a *_minor_* lapse in its judgement programs but why does it need to be--

"Its stress levels rose to seventy-two percent just now." A voice it had never heard before-- female-- most likely the voice of the woman with the heart shaped face, informs, muttering.

"You aren't being reset, nor are you being deactivated, RK800. But what you did is unacceptable. Cyberlife expects *_better_* from one of its most advanced models. The last we want is for one of our models to start exhibiting deviant behavior." Rachel explains.

Deviant. *_Deviant._* It-- it *_wasn't--_*

*_"We just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of your pro--"_* The sudden words are heard throughout its head, along with a brief, miniscule moment in which it sees angry snow float through its eyesight. However the rest of the sentence fades in volume, unable to be heard, dissolving into quicksand, fading from reality, yet eager to become something tangible, a puzzle that needed more pieces before it could be understood.

"Its stress levels just went to seventy-seven." The woman at the computer remarks, the light from the computer illuminating her. "And for a second something played in its memory bank but It... happened too fast for me to see and I can't seem to access it again."

"I'm *_not_* deviant." Connor interjects quickly. It self checks regularly, *_it has weekly evaluations._*

But it still failed them. It should-- it should of *_told_* Cyrus about Lieutenant Anderson's involvement in aiding that deviant, it *_should of_* but it didn't...

"Of course. However you still failed us. Due to this, Cyberlife has decided a punishment is most fitting for you. To make sure lying is not something you do *_especially_* to the RK900 or *_us_* again. Just note that if you should experience a "minor" error like this again... well, i'm sure you understand what another failure will bring."

The RK800 wasn't designed to fail. But it still knew. Logically, it should have been decommissioned with the release of the RK900 model, as was the fate of all obsolete androids. But, inexplicably, no such thing had happened. That did not mean it was untouchable, nor did it mean it was safe from the same fate in the future, or even in the current time. The reason it still stood here was for no other reason than it was as efficient as its successor, and it understood this.

If it failed, though the RK800 has never, there would be no reason to keep it around when a much better, more efficient, more superior machine could take its place.

It wasn't... it wasn't something it wished would occur. But-- every machine needed a purpose. A function. Servitude to humanity was-- was its *_reason._* What was the point of keeping it around if it was not useful? It thought.

Something in it shift again, something alien in its systems, at the thought. It does not go looking for answers with a diagnosis. Instead, it nods in the dark once, accepting the coming punishment.

It is a machine, and this is the consequence of failure. A mantra. It tastes as foul as a battery. As if the statement was repeated one too many times and now the words were unable to make sense, or even sound like real words, that, instead, it was now simply a noise that echoed in its head.

Rachel's illuminated form travels to the door for a moment, breaking the android from its thoughts. The door is swung open, dim light floating from the hallway outside. Seven seconds later her figure returns, a white, steel, chair being carried in her left hand.

The door closes again, the light from the hallway disappearing, and the woman sets the chair down gently, positioned so that, from what Connor could tell as it squinted in the dark, the person who sat on it could look directly at the foot of the metal bed, or rather table, the android laid in.

The man with the large glasses appears beside her through the dark, handing the brown clipboard to her as he fades back into the dark somewhere to Connor's left. Rachel falls into the chair, legs crossing as she stares down at the clipboard. Connor's head fell back onto the steel, no longer attempting to observe any longer.

She clears her throat. "We will begin now."

The woman at the computer hits a button, and almost instantly everything inside of Connor *_reacts._*

It's... It's... *_indescribable._* Peering eyes furiously staring inside of a skull, or rather, a CPU. It burns as if God themself caused the blaze with a unquenchable, rage filled, *_vengeance._* It pounds through its code and through its gyroscope, everything is ablaze and angry, everything is happening all at once in the universe. Privacy is false, as if with every moment spent with someone else's eyes inside of its head, the burning, biting, sensation that begins to spread in every circuit, in every wire, becomes the only reality.

The cord attached to its LED was sending low amounts of voltage through its entire being. That in itself, was unpleasant, however androids were not meant to be online when its code and various programs were looked at. Having your system observed was not a pleasant experience.

The android was not in stasis. Nor would it be going into it. Right now, a thousand eyes were inside of its head. It tingles for a split second in glorious time before it stings so greatly, that the android isn't sure if it can continue staying online. They were traveling through everything that made up an RK800, and it felt like its head was currently being squeezed and squeezed and *_squeezed_* so intensely, that it thinks its CPU could shatter at any moment from the weight of all of the *_awareness._* From all of the eyes packed and huddled tightly in.

The woman at the computer begins to press various keys on the keyboard. Every inch of its code and every part of its system is being seen at once.

They were removing a code one by one. Only to restore it fully back in its systems moments later.

They did not touch its programs. Memory programs, combat programs, there were far too many to meddle with. Having them messed with was risky.

No, it was only its code.

Its systems had the burning sensation that review of it while online brought. But with its code...

It was as if you were fading into the air, everything that made up the android could be deleted as if it was a flimsy text message. Only to be roughly shoved back into existence a moment later.

It *_burned_* so deeply, so brightly, like the sun.

Androids couldn't feel pain. But this certainly came close to such an experience.

This is what failure brings.

****SOFTWARE INSTABILITY- - ****

Connor keeps its chocolate eyes closed, the sense of calm that had washed over it earlier was gone, discomfort in every part of the android was now present. It felt like being submerged in the blackest, deepest, oil that was on a constant loop of being set ablaze.

"First question, RK800. What in your systems caused you to lie about seeing your old partner former Lieutenant Hank Anderson on the security footage?"

It just saw him and....

It was difficult to remember its time as his partner. What was memory if not a incomprehensible, stormy, blur? But they were friends, it thinks. It hopes they were.

*_"We might have even become friends-"_*

It resonates inside of its head, thunderous and loud and does not help the sensations that are already screaming inside its skull. Whatever it is, it dissolves with time.

Helping deviants carried many punishments. From a two thousand dollar fine, to four or three years in prison for the most minor cases.

"I... am uncertain. An error in my system due to our past partnership, possibly. I let this cloud my judgement." It was the truth. It could have been a software error. The android had only experienced two in the time it has been activated.

It wondered what would come for the older man.

It opens its eyes briefly. To its right, the two men that were in the room could be faintly picked out from the shadows and darkness. They watched the android in complete silence. While it could not fully see their faces, it imagined they had looks of scientific fascination decorating them. The woman by the computer continued to dedicate her focus to what made up the android, and Connor saw Rachel write something down onto the paper on the clipboard in her lap.

She does not ask the android anything further about the particular question. Instead, she glances towards Connor's form on the bed, and opens her mouth to speak again.

"Have you experienced any other errors since? Something strange inside of your programs, or even systems?"

Ever since last week, the android has experienced a plethora of inexplicable occurrences. Things such as voices and brief images that don't seem to be able to come fully into reality, but still somehow exist. They rock its systems roughly, loudly.

Briefly, the android wonders if they could be *_memories._*

"I... no. No, nothing else worrying has occured." The burning in its head continues. There's something unknown in the android's voice.

"No... *_doubts?"_* The woman presses, her voice echoing slightly in the room.

"No." It answers through the cruel burning in its head. "Nothing has changed. All I want is to complete my mission." Doubts? Why... would it have *_doubts?_*

"Have you noticed any odd behavior on the RK900, Cyrus's part?"

"No. Cyrus has been nothing but helpful in the current investigation." The answer is quick, the question was easy to answer. Its eyebrows furrow. Cyrus was not a deviant, nor would it become one. In the two years its been online, it had been only efficient.

Was Cyrus ever asked about the RK800? It thought.

Its skull burns. It pushes the sensation down.

"Have you felt wronged in any way since your last evaluation? Like an injustice has happened towards you?"

Its eyes open and glance towards the cord hooked onto its yellow LED. For possibly far too many seconds, it does not answer. "No. Nothing 'wrong' has happened to me."

"You interrogated a PL600 model an hour ago. How did that go?"

The memory of its firm, unyielding, grip on Connor's arm feels as if its happening all over again. It glances towards the computer and for a split second can see the memory of itself talking to the android play out, before the scene is replaced by the various information on its systems once again.

"I... feel I found out valuable information talking to it. Like how it might have been with other deviants prior to its capture."

"It grabbed your arm at the end of the interrogation. Tell me about that."

It squints, unsure of how exactly they learned of something only two other people were present for, unless they found out through its memories.

There was another sharp sting through its head, one so intense that Connor flinched on the table. After a moment, the feeling subsides.

"I believe it showed me one of its memories. It was difficult to understand what I was seeing and Cyrus pulled it from me before I could."

A second of silence. "Are you sure?"

The tone of the question is unreadable. However something in it feels.... different. Connor's eyes glance at various things in the dark at the strange question. "I couldn't understand it."

A pause again. A much longer one. Rachel's pen moves against the paper, the only sound.

After almost two minutes, her head moves up, no longer focused on the clipboard. Her eyes are on the android, studious and careful.

Her head turns towards the woman at the computer who was staring back at her form. One pointed look, and the burning sensation disappears as the woman shuts down the computer in the corner, getting rid of any light.

Four whole seconds in the dark. And footsteps.

Light floods the room again. Connor squeezes its eyes shut for several seconds, adjusting to the sudden brightness. Rachel walks towards the android quickly, bending down as her hands wrap around the cord. It falls from Connor's LED and into her pale hand and drops it onto the floor.

Connor lays there in silence as people move around in the room. Rachel is at the androids level by the table. Her hair faintly tickles its cheek as she bends down towards its ear. Her perfume moved around in the air. The burning sensation had gone, but the dizzying, sharp sting in its skull had not. The amount of discomfort in its systems was uncountable.

All that mattered was the mission. This statement washes over it and flows through every single part of its circuits and wires until this is the only thought, erasing any discomfort. It came from something deep within it, something that encouraged it to obey with a displeased expression. From something or someone that lurked in a garden. Through its code and through its *_being._* All that mattered. There would be no reason for something like this again because it would not *_fail_* them again.

"That was the last question." Her breath is hot inside of its ear. As Rachel's voice resonates within it. "Another minor error like this, and there won't be a luxury of a punishment like this. *_Remember that,_* RK800."

****SOFTWARE INSTABILITY - -****

Rachel moves from her spot near Connor's ear and rises, footsteps loud as she walks towards one of the men, voice low as she begins to speak to him

After a minute, Connor begins to rise from the table.


	14. Chapter 14: Eui VI

AJ200

****APRIL. 20TH. 2040. 4:00AM. SUNDAY.****

For an ethereal moment, the world is still as she stares at the faces before her, and as the faces before her stare back. There were three of them total. Time is frozen in ice. The generator nearby hums despite this. Soft and steady, yet still somehow obnoxiously loud. The fire burning in a barrel nearby distantly crackles.

A breath.

And then, the world resumes.

From behind her, the noise of a gun cocking fills her ears. It's a sound that could freeze mountains by their terror alone, and one that almost instantly causes her to go stiff where she stood. The eyes of the faces that stared back at her glanced at the gun behind her, eyes darting to whatever laid behind her.

Cursing herself for even choosing to see where a mysterious door in the middle of the woods led, and attempting to remain calm, even attempting to maintain *_some_* level of control of the situation, she suppresses a loud sigh and raises her hands slowly, feet moving around to face the cold barrel of the gun, the faces disappearing behind her as she turns.

"Who the fuck are you? why are you here?" A rough voice, belonging to an asian man with chestnut hair, asks as she faces him. His face was by no means an intimidating one, which he seemed to be making up for with the loudness of his voice.

The AJ200 says nothing for a moment, carefully deciding and choosing words that were less likely to result in a bullet through her forehead. Fear pumping through her steadily like a drug. She wonders if there is any way she could disarm the other and make a *_break_* for it. There wasn't some door she could surprise him with, and she could not reach for her knife that laid inside her back pocket without being shot on the spot.

So words, then. She was not good at those.

"Fucking-- I'm sorry I-- I didn't know anybody was even *_here_* and..." Her panicked stammers begin to trail off as her sienna eyes flick from the ground to the man's head.

It was almost unable to be made out, obscured by various small strands of brown hair, but she could still see it. It glowed in the dark of the bunker. Something that illuminated a bright, chaotic, red that spun on his temple without rest.

The apprehension doesn't disappear, but in this split second it significantly lessens. It's a feeling that radiates sizzling, utter, familiarity, while mixing with a learned weariness of any living thing for good measure.

Something in her softens. Even while staring down the gun.

"Just shoot her! What if she isn't alone?! You *_know_* what will happen if *_anyone_* finds us here!" A voice behind her pleads, panic laced deeply in the tone.

"Pepper, I got this okay--"

In an inexplicable moment, she steps slightly forward, feet moving closer with each moment, and outstretches her hand, as if she were attempting to reach for the weapon. Her hand stops a few feet from the barrel of the gun. The man with the gun raises a brow and observes her movements with a wary eye, even stepping back slightly, but his steady aim does not change. She raises her palm flat, and watches the man as her skin deactivates, white plastic spreading and covering every inch of her right hand in an instant.

The man's grey eyes widen slightly, something that seemed to be a mix of disbelief and yet also relief fills every inch of his features as he stares at her hand. The two of them meet each other's eyes, the gun that has watched her for almost a minute now begins to lower slowly, the brown haired man's hands with it.

"I can leave if you want." She begins softly, lowering her hands but not breaking the eye contact the two of them have now started. The frantic pumping inside of her seems to have somehow subsided. "I just needed to get out of the open for a bit, that's all. I didn't know that anyone was here." She finishes truthfully.

It had been... a very long time, since she had seen other androids that were awake like she was. In the two years she spent hiding and fleeing at every moment, she had only seen one other android like her in that time. For a very long time she had assumed Detroit had destroyed every last deviant, every last android.

Failure had consequences. It was cold and uninviting.

It was a lonely feeling, believing that you were the only one left in a world that feared and distrusted you. She hadn't held on to much hope of being proved wrong until stumbling upon another android eight months after everything that had happened.

But here she was, being proved wrong yet again. The number of androids in the room was small, but there were *_still_* a number of deviant androids in it.

Failure still brought hope. You could destroy everything and every species, but not it.

"She's an *_android?"_* A voice laced with surprise behind her is the next to speak. She turns her head, finding the voice to belong to a dark skinned, brown eyed woman with mid length dark hair and a yellow hoodie on the far left and lacked any LED.

A beat. Silence. She blinks once as she begins to open her mouth to say something.

"No. No you don't have to leave if you don't want to, you-- my name is Henry." The man with the gun-- Henry, speaks. The gun was now lowered, being holstered in the back of the man's dark pants. His sleeves rolled down a bit with the gesture, she could see the damage. Her head snapped back to his. His eyes flickered to the AJ200's, studying her. Her mouth closed, the words dying in her throat.

About five seconds after he finishes, she realizes he must be expecting a name in return from her. Something she is unable to instantly give back.

Names were difficult. Names were something humans gave only for another to change it. As if it was *_theirs_* to modify and meddle with in the first place. She hadn't bothered to pick one once she awakened because if she was being truthful, she hadn't expected to be alive for very much *_longer_* after that.

And who would ask for the name of a dead woman?

Yumi. Aiko. Rin. Those were simply words that humans said that led back to her form. They held no familiarity to them in the slightest, no warmth. Nothing that was *_hers._*

But here, in this moment, she could pick one. She was still here after two years of terror. Dead woman or not, the dead still had names.

There were so many *_options._* So many names flickering throughout her head at once.

Laura? No, she thought. Too plain.

Nora? No, that wasn't it.

Kim? No, it didn't feel right.

Riley?

And the it settles on something. Something first uttered under duress but something that could now become a rebirth, a recreation. It was made of ivory and silver, it was something so thunderous and strange, that it felt that if she uttered it out loud, it would become the only solid thing in the galaxy.

The time for rebirth in the wake of destruction and recreation had chosen to be now. This was a birth without a womb, a birth born from an impossible survival. A creation of identity and self. Something so small, and something taken for granted, had morphed into a powerful giant. She felt that if she said it, those who denied her sentience could not speak against her again. That, it *_made her real._* A person with a name that was no longer simply a paradox with wires and thought.

"Eui." The AJ200 says after a long moment, her LED circling from yellow back to blue. "It's Eui."

Eui watches as Henry gives a small nod in response, and as he begins to get closer to her. Her eyes move towards the small group of androids behind her.

There was the android with the mid length hair that had spoken a moment ago that she recognized as a KL900 model, an android that had wires where legs would have been, sitting in a dark wheelchair, with a shaved head of hair, a crooked nose, pale skin, and dark green eyes, and an android with silver hair and brown eyes that was another KL900 model.

"Sorry about the gun. But i'm sure you can understand being a bit trigger happy in light of... well, shit, everything really."

She could. By nature, Eui had the misfortune of being too much of a jumpy person. "Yeah-- no, it's-- understandable." She begins. "If some random person climbed into my bunker in the middle of the woods at four in the morning i'd be a bit nervous too." She says dryly.

Henry laughs. His gaze moves towards the trio behind her. "Um-- that's Clementine--" He points to the android with the yellow jacket, the woman in question giving a soft smile, hand raising in a small wave. "that's Pepper--" The man informs, nodding towards the android in the wheelchair. "and that's Nina." He pointed towards the android with the silver hair.

"Sorry about the whole, y'know, 'shoot her already' thing. You don't seem like a threat *_now,_* if that makes it any better." Pepper awkwardly grins, a smile that still somehow feels warm, her eyes crinkling.

"Don't feel too silly Eui, that's how Nina and I got welcomed, but to be fair, we were here for two hours before anyone saw us. And Henry almost whacked us with a chair." Clementine says, gesturing towards the other KL900 model in the middle of the trio. Nina shrugs in response. "Not the worst thing to happen to me." She remarks.

"What is this place?" Eui questions, turning back towards Henry as she glances around the room, eyes moving from object to object. The two of them begin to walk through the room. "Is it some sort of safe haven?"

Henry laughs. "God no. No, it's just something I found-- maybe... barely a two weeks ago. everybody else found it a couple days after. Well, everybody but Anna and Pepper, they were already here to begin with."

"Anna? Who's that?" Eui asks, glancing around the room as they continue to walk.

"Anna? Oh they're around here somewhere. They use they/them pronouns. They're just someone who was hiding out here before us. Think they managed to hide out here for the past two years. And I think Pepper arrived, what, a week before I did?"

"What, is this place some sort of android magnet or something?" She asks humorously.

"Feels like it." Henry laughs.

There was something that hung over her head, it hardly mattered but was something she wondered all the same as they continued to speak.

"Can you... is your memory unaltered?Can any of you remember anything before this month? This year, even?" She asks, pausing in an archway. "Can you remember the revolution?"

Henry stops, glancing at her. He was taller than she was and she had to stare *_up_* at the man. "I... don't remember anything before a month ago. I escaped this one production factory, and I don't think I existed before then, but... Anna's the only one here who wasn't manufactured this year or reset. I'm guessing you weren't either?"

She shakes her head, once. The two of them stand there in a heavy wave of silence for a moment, before Henry begins to speak again.

"Doesn't matter now, I guess. We might as well know everything due to Anna." He says, tone quiet and sober. "Who needs memories anyways, eh?" He says half heartedly. "What brought you here anyways? Why climb into some random bunker in the woods? Didn't you mention needing to get out of the open?"

Her face falls. The sharp sting of a bullet brings her back to the moment of pure, unadulterated, fear. The way the trees blew, the way fight took over in place of flight. The way the irrational, panic driven part of her CPU took over, primal, like a deep, unquenchable, *_hunger._*

"It's like you said. Doesn't really matter now." She brushes his question off, shrugging. Her tone was nonchalant. Android or human, he didn't need to know...*_every_* detail. Especially not a stranger.

Henry opens his mouth again, eyebrows furrowed in response--

"Henry, there you are, is Lou back yet--"

The voice of a crimson haired, blue eyed figure comes into view, appearing into view from a nearby corner. They had a quizzical expression on their face as their eyes focused on the two androids in front of them, and a small nose. There was also a lack of damage to either of their arms.

They also, inexplicably, lacked any shoes, or even socks. Eui blinked, tearing her gaze from the male android and focus now directed on the sudden arrival, glancing down at their bare feet.

Even stranger, they were accompanied by a small, brown corgi. Which currently stared up at Eui in wonder.

"Oh. A new person? I'm Anna, i'm sure Henry's told you all about us." Anna's voice was distracted and the android seemed unfazed by Eui's sudden arrival, turning to face Henry instead though their tone was friendly despite the lack of proper focus towards the AJ200. "Anyways, Henry, Lou-- is he back yet?"

"I'm Eui--"

"No. Not yet, but he's *_fine_* probably. You know how he is, he can take care of himself. He's probably just laying low." Henry says to Anna, voice reassuring.

Anna's expression seems torn, even frustrated, biting their lip in response, sighing, before their focus shifts back to Eui, as if truly noticing her for the first time. "You said Eui right?"

"Um-- yeah, uh-- whose Lou? If you don't... mind me asking?"

"Just another android, we needed more thirium, he went out a few days ago to find some. He hasn't... come back yet, and I think most of us thought you were him when we heard you climb the ladder." Henry explains. "And this--" He begins, bending down to pet the animal, running a hand through the fur of the possibly over enthusiastic corgi beside Anna. "Is Hamster."

"Um. Hamster the... dog?" Eui questions, perplexed.

"Yes, Hamster the dog, i'm sorry but have you seen him at all out there? He's a bit short, brown hair, a PL600 model, still has an LED, and he has this huge amount of damage to his ear?" Anna asks, tone hopeful as they raise their brows, hand shooting up towards their ear in a gesture.

Eui shakes her head slowly, shrugging. as Hamster begins to pant. "No, sorry." She admits apologetically. "I haven't seen many deviants out there to be fair, if i'm being honest. I've mostly been traveling."

Anna's face falls, sighing. "Of course not. That idiot better be *_okay._* He owes me twenty bucks. Not that I can even *_use_* it." They mutter. "Wherever he is he's too far away for me to talk to him up in here." They tap their head, directing the last bit of the statement towards Henry, glancing around the room, before they go back the way they came, the corgi-- Hamster, coming with.

After a moment, in which the conversation between her and Henry seem finished, Eui turns again, feet moving towards a nearby door before promptly stopping. She turns towards Henry, expression unreadable.

"Did you mean what you said? that I didn't have to leave?" She asks. She hated the idea of continuing to hide in one place, and she hated relying on others, even androids But it wasn't like she could *_walk_* out of Detroit.

Henry smiles. "Yeah, yeah I-- did. You can leave if you have somewhere else to go but this place is pretty much open to any deviant. What little of us are left."

There was always Canada. Detroit had been unsafe for years now, and attachment to it wouldn't work out in any way for her anymore, she thought. Canada had always been a thought, but RA9 it was so much *_riskier_* now to find a way there.

She doesn't respond for a moment, thoughtful. She didn't have many other options, and there was at least *_some_* level of trust she could give to the android, even if they were strangers. There was some sense of familiarity shared with those who experienced the same things you did.

A pause. "Okay." Eui says, offering a small smile.


	15. Chapter 15: Eui VII

  
Eui

****APRIL. 23RD. 2040. 1:00PM. MONDAY.****

It's a decidedly strange experience, being around other androids after such a long time in solitude, Eui decides.

Nothing was unpleasant about it exactly. The first few days pass surprisingly easily as she begins to speak to the people around her more often. But there was something inexplicable she felt during it all.

Perhaps it was a longing. She deeply wished they did not have to cower in bunkers as the world lived on as they did not. An exile with the only other choice being death.

There was comfort in sharing pariah status, she thought. And there shouldn't have been. But there still was. Or maybe she just wasn't good with people.

She hadn't spoken that much to others, which she hoped the five of them hadn't taken personally, but the AJ200, by nature, was not one to be sociable. Before she went deviant socializing came easy, but unaided by programs and protocols, there was something difficult in it all, something that left a dull taste in her mouth and left her fidgeting. Beyond thanking them for allowing her to stay with them, she hadn't seen that much of them in the past few days save for various times she's walked past someone and politely acknowledged them.

It was really, really, nothing personal. She wasn't someone who trusted easily and being given a place to stay wasn't going to change that. Not yet, at least.

She wasn't even sure anymore if she was *_staying_* in Detroit. Eui had of thought of nothing but Canada for the past few days.

It's a Monday afternoon and she sits alone by a fire that crackles inside a brown steel barrel, sitting on old, dull grey, rusty, locker that had been knocked down and turned onto its side to create a makeshift bench. She stares into it, expression pensive and arms wrapped around herself as the flames put on a show, spinning and dancing, wrapping each other in their firey arms and kissing each others heat filled lips, each flame a faithful lover and companion of the next.

Hamster laid near her feet, and every few moments she would extend a hand towards his fur and stroke it. In turn, he panted and licked her leg.

She wasn't alone in the bunker, it wasn't as small as it seemed on the outside of it, and there was a number of rooms inside of it for her new acquaintances to be, wherever they may of been, she was alone only in this part of it. Somehow the place still managed to feel all too deathly quiet, the lack of noise or conversation felt strange-- unnerving, and for a moment, in the vast silence, it was easy to forget anyone else in the world existed at all.

Which was perfectly fine, she was skilled with providing company for her own self and it left her plenty time to think, to take a breather, if she needed to catch her breath, that is. She was ignoring how much it reminded her of the two years. There were people here, she wasn't a ghost separated from the rest of the world.

She wasn't.

In a way, it brought her back to the hours after the demonstration had failed, the way the dazzling, plentiful feeling of liberation from the camps had melted into suffocating terror as she hid and hid for her life as law enforcement flooded the streets looking for those who had slipped through the slaughter.

This was not a terrifying place, but it was still a place to hide or die inside of.

The last time she had checked, or rather, dared to go outside, seeing as there were zero windows from anywhere inside, the sun was smiling down at Detroit, no longer burdened at the moment by the vengeful rainfall that had seemingly no end to it, and the air was fresh and inviting, a far cry from the distinct unwanted smell that surrounded everything inside the bunker.

Though, she had yet to exactly *_identify_* the sickly smell, which seemed to be a cross between moldy cheese and something rotting. Which, if she had a gag reflex, would of most likely made her hurl by now.

She's never had free time on her hands, not as someone who was free, she thought as she sat, and she thought that perhaps even in different circumstances, a different *_life,_* not having something to occupy herself would still be undesirable.

But it was a better alternative than anything else the world was currently willing to give to her, or even the death it was tripping over its feet to bring to her for what she was, so she was in no position to complain, really. Maybe she just needed to *_demand_* a better alternative than any of those.

She's contemplating moving from her spot, far too warm now, when the sound of footsteps in the silence break her train of thought. A figure comes through the archway, breaking up the solitude and silence that engulfs the area. Her eyes flick from the fire to them, head snapping up from where it had watched it, arms floating back to her sides as her gaze trails the figure. Hamster's ears perked up, and he moved his head from the floor.

Anna stops in their tracks for merely a second, feet moving a step backwards before walking again, red hair dangling in one of their eyes, arms full of various pieces of scrap metal, piercingly blue eyes moving towards Eui in an acknowledgement, before blowing a stray hair out of their eyes and glancing towards something behind her, doing their best to not drop the plethora of parts already in their arms, chin resting on top of one of the parts.

"Hey can I please use that piece of wood beside you?" They question, gaze moving between the wood and Eui as the corgi trotted over to them. "I'm sorry honey, I have no limbs to pet you with right now." Anna directs the last statement towards Hamster, who whines in response.

Eui blinks. "Use? Um-- this, er-- wood?" She asks, tone perplexed as she extends an arm towards the plank behind her. At Anna's small nod, unable to see anything good come from throwing it towards the android, she grasps it and extends her arm as the redhead begins to walk towards her, the lack of shoes still ever present on the other android's part as their feet move against the cold ground.

Anna's hand briefly brushes against the raven haired android in their task of obtaining the wood, the sensation strange as their hair tickles the others skin as they managed to not drop the many other things that currently overflowed in their arms, stacking it on the pile in it, chin moving up as it is set down and moving back down to rest on it as they turn.

"Are you-- fuck," Something silver drops to the ground with a resonating *_'clank'_* as Anna begins to speak, the android was not facing Eui, but AJ200 could hear the sudden surprise and frustration that was in their voice and no doubt on their face. Eui rises from her spot on the fallen locker, bending down to pick up what looked like a lightening rod, eyebrows furrowing for a moment before Anna turns around, glancing at her.

"Just put it on the pile." They request, chin lifting from the wood as they watch Eui, who obeys, walking towards Anna as her hand gently placed the rod on the wood, raising a brow in an unspoken question as it makes a soft 'thud' as it lands. Hamster, however, went back to his spot by the fire, settling down to sleep.

"Thank you" Anna's polite smile could be faintly made out through all the junk. "Are you just sitting in here by yourself?" They inquire as they move towards a corner in the room where another slab of wood laid forgotten, Eui's head cocking as she followed the other, helping them as she walked past them and picked it up and deposited it onto the pile.

"I guess I am." Eui admits, shrugging. "It's quiet. Well, quieter than it usually is. What on earth are *_you_* doing?"

Anna glances at the pile in their hands. "This? I tinker with things a bit." They glance around, as if looking for something more. "You want to see what i'm doing?" Anna seemed to speak in a way where every question they asked seemed more like a statement, and spoke just a bit more quickly than people usually did, as if even their voice couldn't stay still for too long.

Anna was already moving towards a hallway when they finished their question, briefly glancing back at Eui, once. The android in question stared at the back of their retreating form for a moment before slowly moving towards them. "Uh-- sure..." Eui glanced behind her once more, taking in the room around her before beginning to walk.

There weren't that many hallways inside of the bunker. There were exactly four, ones, she noticed as she trailed behind the android, that were mostly empty. The hallway to at least two of them was an unhappy version of yellow, with various parts of the paint rotting off, and the bunker had lights that flickered uncertainly between dim and bright, even with the generator inside, illuminating the bunker half in hopeful rays, and half in unlit darkness.

The only noise as they walked was the soft humming of Anna's voice and the faint voices that floated through to the two of them from a room farther in. As they continued, the voices got closer, and Eui's eyes traveled to her right as they passed a medium sized room that, as she briefly paused in her tracks, she noticed had Clementine and Nina inside of it. The two were at a small makeshift table as they sat in steel chairs.

Neither seem to notice her sudden arrival, the two of them deep in some sort of calm conversation with the other. Ceasing the curious staring she was currently doing, Eui glances back at Anna's form, moving again and speed walking to catch up with them again.

Abruptly, as she nearly catches up with them, Anna stops, darting quickly into a room without a door on it to the left. Eui briefly stops in surprise before slowly joining the other.

The room was... vibrant, to say the least. As Eui stands inside the room she saw a dirt stained bookshelf that was overflowing with various titles and shelves that laid on the walls that had a variety of tools laying on them. There were contraptions that looked one gust of wind away from falling apart throughout the fairly small room, and Eui had to squeeze her way through some of them to move further in.

Anna moved through with ease, heading towards a black bench that seemed to have a broken bike placed upon it. Near it, sat a mini flag with a red maple leaf on it that she recognized as Canadian. The two of them were packed closely together in the small room, and Eui could feel the other's breath on her.

"Have you ever been to Canada?" She asks, hand grasping the small flag as she studied it, putting it back down a few moments later as her eyes flicker to the various other things in the room.

"Hm? Oh that, silly souviner really but only once, when... everything fell apart." Anna began, voice slightly off. "I hid there for a while after everything. There were a lot more androids than I expected there to be. I saw this one AX400 that had a kid and another android with her, and for a while I was friends with this one other android." They smile, a small laugh leaving their lips.

"Why would you leave? Why come back here of all places, wasn't Canada safer?" She asks.

For a moment Anna is quiet, something that, despite being around them for such a short time, felt out of character, Eui thought. "I came back after a year. It's a bit complicated. Okay *_medium sized_* complicated. The short version of it is I had friends here that hadn't been killed and I couldn't just leave them behind-- hand me that wrench over there please?"

Eui follows their gaze to a nearby shelf, feet moving a few meters and choosing to stand on her tip toes to reach the top of the shelf, hands reaching the cold steel of the tool and handing it to the android, who muttered a soft 'thank you' in response, focusing on repairing the busted blue bike.

"What about *_you,_* why are you still in Detroit?" Anna asks, distracted.

Eui gives a small smile that doesn't meet the eyes. "It's medium sized complicated too."

After several moments of silence as Eui watches them work, Anna sets the tool down, biting their lip.

"What?" She asks.

"I need more metal and there isn't any more here that I haven't already got in this pile." They remark, gesturing towards the sea of various junk beside them. A beat. "Do you-- would you mind coming with me to this one junkyard?"

Eui's face is skeptical. "A *_junkyard?_* You want to just go out in the open like that?"

Anna begins to move past her. "It's an invitation to not stay so cooped up in here, but you can stay if you want. The open isn't scary if you're fast and careful. I've been enjoying the 'outside world' for two years. The humans don't bite if they don't see you."

Anna stops in the doorway for a moment when she doesn't move. "You coming?"

Against her better judgement, she follows, biting her lip.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
She can practically smell the fresh air as her foot gets down from the last step of the ladder. Anna glances through the small window of the door for almost a minute before opening it, the light beginning to pour through endlessly, as the noise of the world abruptly is heard again. Birds sing and cry from nearby trees as Anna moves through the door, Eui beginning to follow close behind.

The door groans and falls shut behind her, deafening and sudden in its tone. Anna moves a few feet ahead, pausing as their bare feet touched the grass.

The sun shined down on the both of   
them, as if announcing that the two of them were golden, bathing them both in the rays of the earth, a nurturing mother. Eui took a moment for herself, closing her eyes and, though it was still unneeded, took a deep breath in, soaking up the smell of the fresh, invigorating air, letting it wash every part of her body. She did this almost every time she found herself outside. If not to have something to remember in case it was the last time she could simply *_be._*

When her sienna eyes flicker back open, Anna has begun to move.

The two of them wander through the various trees, stepping over rocks and other parts of the woods. Eui moves a hair from her eye and tucks it neatly behind her ear as she hops over a log.

There's several minutes of silence as the two of them walk through the forest, the faint sounds of cars on a highway from somewhere distant and the various birds singing are the only noise.

Eventually, through the trees, the two come upon a dirt road, something dark red was hidden by a number of bushes near it. It was smooth, sleek, not fancy or expensive, but not cheap either.

"You have a *_car?"_* Eui asks incredulously.

Anna glances back as they continued to walk. "A *_stolen_* car, but yeah, I do."

The slight tinge of worry at the fact melts as she remembers her one time theft, realizing she was in no position to judge. Her hand finds the handle of the passenger door, opening it as she slides into the seat, watching as Anna moves into the driver's seat a moment later.

"Where did you... even get a car like this?" Anna turns the key into the ignition as the car comes alive, their naturally blonde brows raising in slight amusement.

Anna looks around for a moment before beginning to drive, foot on the accelerator, turning. "My owner. I didn't go deviant until an hour before they started destroying us. He knew what was coming, and I don't think he was surprised when I went deviant, he just let us go. And my sisters and I... *_borrowed_* his keys."

"Your *_sisters?"_*

'The other RT600 models he had. There were two, not counting me." There's a slight bump as the car gets onto the road. "It doesn't matter anymore. One stayed with him, I guess he protected her when the humans came for us and I don't know where the other is." Anna finishes, something strange in their tone.

"Oh... i'm sorry." The car gets onto the main road, cars moving past as they drive. Eui hoped the other didn't notice the way she shrinks, avoiding being fully seen from the window by instinct. As if it will make a difference, she says: "When I... went deviant, I had someone with me too, Alex. I don't know where she is either." Alex was hardly *_someone,_* but they hardly had the time to explain *_Alex._*

They shrug, focusing on the road ahead of them. "I found shelter in the bunker in the end. What about you? Henry says you remember things. That you weren't built this year. I... I remember *_so much,"_* Anna's tone is nostalgic, something else was in it that was almost mournful. "do you remember--"

"I remember it *_all."_* She interrupts softly, ignoring how bright the sun was on her face as they passed buildings. " I was built a few years ago, I-- I remember every humilation, every peaceful march. I remember the way it *_felt_* when I saw *_his_* speech on the televison, the hope it gave me when I wasn't even *_awake_* yet. I remember the recycling camps they sent me to. I remember the flames as he freed us only to die minutes later. I *_remember."_*

It feels so grand to say it. So extraordinary and mournful. To be able to speak of this with someone who *_knew._* It leaves her heart full, and plummeting into a pit of grief all at once.

The car continues as a short wave of silence moves over the two. Anna glances over at her. "Markus was pretty... incredible. I... never met him, but I know it must of been a difficult decision to choose to fight after being so peaceful. From what I saw on the TV he... he was a good man."

"I met him, once. He... he really was." The darkest hour was unbelievably dark. And yet he still managed to bring hope and light. Fight wasn't the safest choice, and Eui liked to think she was a good person, but sometimes words weren't enough, and her track record of panic driven behavior was proof of it.

Androids were like humans in that area, they did stupid things when scared. And Markus had to of been, she thinks. She certainly was in those camps. And people did brash things when they felt they were left without many other options.

Maybe it cost them everything, maybe things would of been the same regardless of his choice. All she knew was it didn't mean he was less of a good leader or man. It just meant he was as human as the rest of humanity.

"How did you meet Pepper anyways?" Eui asks suddenly, doing her best to change the subject. "Henry said she was already there with you when he came along."

It struck her that she had never seen an android in a wheelchair before. Most androids who had been that injured had been... thrown out. It was somehow everything to see one that was. To prove that android life-- *_any life,_* wasn't *_yours_* to decide that it was finished and unable to be of any more usefulness simply because of something like this. A life wasn't finished until a life's lungs stopped *_breathing_* and its heart stopped pumping.

Anna turns a corner. "Pepper? I know her memories go as far back as two months ago, and that she found the bunker-- and me about three weeks after she was made, gave me the android equivalent of a heart attack. Don't know much about her life before those three weeks. Somewhere in between all of that we weren't careful enough running on the highway from the cops. She's funny enough and good company, and a *_real_* good shot if i'm honest, not that we've needed to use that many bullets."

Eui hums in response as they pull into the junkyard, slow and discrete. She glances at the various trash stacked upon and against each other, leaning closer to the windshield. "This doesn't feel safe, but i'm sure you already know that." She tells Anna.

"I do. But I *_really_* want to fix up this bicycle." They say dryly. "Safe isn't real anyways for androids like us."

Without much more time being spent on talking, Anna opens their door slowly, rising from their seat. "You coming?" They ask. "I *_promise_* i'll be a knight a protect you." The android gives a lopsided grin, already walking forward.

Eui continued to sit, remaining in the car for a moment. This wasn't a good-- why was she *_here?_* She thought.

After Anna gets moderately far away enough, Eui sighs. What good was trying to be safe when you knew somebody else was putting themself in danger?

Opening her door as quietly as she could, her feet touch the ground and crunch the gravel beneath as she rises out of the car slowly, closing the door as cars pass behind them.

"Anna. Anna, *_wait up."_* She hisses quietly at the figure ahead, jogging to catch up with the other.

The junkyard was piled to the very top with dirt, grim, and other various trash all stacked roughly together, pieces of cars laid broken on piles of cardboard and broken toilets laid unmoving on the ground. It was ground zero for all things abandoned and no longer loved by the world, and here the two of them were.

It reminded her far too much of the junkyard for androids, and she suppressed an unnerved shiver at the thought.

Anna glanced around, eyes scanning for whatever it was exactly that they needed. Eui didn't know how they would find *_anything_* through the enormous trash heaps.

"This is a *_junkyard_* it's here somewhere I know it is--"

Abruptly, Anna's eyes flicker towards something in the distance and Eui finds herself being roughly shoved behind a small makeshift wall that was a yellow car door that stuck out inside of a pile. The AJ200 blinks, taken off guard. They were both crouched and the sudden impact of the car against her back felt jarring, as did the sudden nearness of Anna.

For a moment Anna's artifical breath is on her neck, before suddenly vanishing. Following in their footsteps, but not knowing exactly why, Eui stops her breathing program, the steady rising of her chest no longer being simulated.

Eui's eyes widen in slight alarm, raising a brow in Anna's direction. The two of them were tightly squeezed together, a somewhat invasive experience, and out of instinct Eui attempts to move back a little, but finds Anna's hand on her arm, halting any plans of getting more space. Her mouth opens to ask something, but Anna's other hand covers her mouth quickly.

The RT600's eyes gestured towards something behind the car, darting to the right before looking towards the AJ200 for understanding. After a moment, both of Anna's hands let go of what they were respectively holding, allowing Eui to move.

The dark haired woman leaned slightly to the right, poking her head out from the cover of the car door, eyes squinting in confusion before they settle on something ahead.

Two men were walking forward, one with a dark brown beard and green eyes, the other with a crooked nose and an oval face, workers, judging by the name tags she could vaguely make out on their jackets. The two of them were distracted by their conversation and did not notice her peaking out.

"--No way, man, plastics ain't like that"

"What? what's so difficult to believe about--"

Her head darts back to the cover of the door instantly, pump inside of her slightly frantic. Her eyes found Anna's again, worry evident in only her expression.

*_Just relax. Don't move._* A voice-- Anna's, rings inside her head. *_I don't know if they'd recognize either of our models so just stay put, don't take the chance._*

*_As if I would move._* Eui communicates back.

The sound of the men's footsteps gradually came closer. Eui finds herself leaning further against the other android in an attempt to further shrink herself. Anna's hair tickled her neck. Silence was the only thing in the world she knew in this moment. Whether or not there was a need for it she didn't know, nor did she bother taking on the chance that there wasn't any.

After seventeen seconds, the two men's forms come into view again. Neither seems to see the two huddled behind the broken down car door as they continue to talk. Eui stares at the back of their forms, uncharacteristically more or less calm. She closes her eyes and opens them, several moments later the two men have left.

Several more moments later, Eui resumes her breathing program, moving away from Anna's form.

"RA9..." Eui mutters, glancing towards them. Anna began to rise from where they were crouched. "Let's just-- get what we came here for and leave already, please?"

Anna brushes off the specks of dirt that caked their red shirt and their arms. And Eui could see something silver in their left hand. "Already found some metal over here," They inform. "come on."

Eui follows their leading form, navigating the junkyard back to the saftey of the car.


	16. Chapter 16: Connor V

CONNOR

****APRIL. 16TH. 2040. 10:08PM. WEDNESDAY.****

The taxi is silent as the car hums softly, moving forwards in a steady, unbothered, pace towards a distant goal.

It runs a finger over the steel of the silver in the pocket of its jeans without thinking, over the smooth, elegant, edges, the action so natural that it hardly had to think about it. Like the sun's rays floating through a window during a sunrise. It closed its eyes, head melting back into the leather seat, rubbing a finger lightly over the heads side of the coin.

There's a moment in which a bump shakes the car, jostling the two passengers inside of it in the backseat for a second in time. It is careful to not disturb or impale the thick, heavy silence that managed to be accusing. It had already been invited in and asking it to leave now would somewhat be rude. The symbols on the duo's jackets glowed faintly in the darkness of the vehicle, the only light that came through the black, tinted windows of the cab were the enthralling, dreamy, lights of Detroit's streets outside of it as they were passed quickly and quietly.

"Why didn't you tell me about what you saw?" A voice cuts through in the dark, tone soft.

The RK800 opens its eyes, head not rising from the seat but turning it slightly towards the voice.

"What?" It asks.

A pause. "The footage at the shop. Why did you tell me there was nothing important on them?"

Connor's head rises, turning it slowly towards the other android again. It blinks, expression pensive. It was difficult to see in the dark, save for the lights that briefly touched each of their skin as they drove, but the android thinks there could of be a faint frown on the others pale face.

It doesn't answer, choosing to instead stare at the RK900's brown head of hair, who's gaze was focused on the the empty seat in front of it.

"We're partners, Connor." The car passed lights that illuminated the blue eyed model's face with blue and red, allowing the android's briefly softened eyebrows on an otherwise unreadable face. Its voice however, felt in a way, a voice of someone vaguely let down, a composed yet accusing tone. Cyrus moved its gaze towards Connor, who in turn covertly moved its own towards the seat ahead. "And you lied to me, is there not... *_trust_* in being them?"

Connor lips pursed as its eyes briefly closed, a contrite expression on its face. "It wasn't like that I-- I *_do_* trust you." Its voice fills the air in an otherwise silent ride. It impossible to have spent all this time assigned partners with the other android and *_not_* have developed a somewhat high level of trust with the other. Cyrus was efficient. Warm, clever and trustworthy. Or rather, its social program was designed to emulate such traits. But they were traits, nonetheless. "I'm... i'm sorry."

There's a long moment of silence that follows after the RK800's apology. Connor's gaze flicks towards the window and towards the cars that sped past, observing them quietly and calmly.

"If you think you could be showing signs of becoming... *_compromised,_* I-- need to know, Connor--"

The RK800 shakes its head, a frustrated expression on its features as it briefly makes eye contact in the dark with the other. "It was an error, Cyrus. That's all. I've been evaluated and its been rectified since." It interrupts, voice firm and clear, ignoring the way its systems react to the last part.

A second of silence, in which Connor's head falls back onto the seat. "Your behavior these past few days has been strange, it-- it feels... *_off,_* untypical of your normal behavior, I--"

"I'm not deviant." It cuts the other off, head rising again. There was something unidentifiable in its tone. "And I can assure you i'm not going to be. If I feel i'm becoming compromised I promise I will inform you but i'm *_not._* All I care about is the mission."

The words sit in the air for a moment, unintentionally defensive despite having nothing to be rightly defensive about. Connor blinks, gaze moving back towards the window.

"I trust you, Connor." Its the next thing that fills the air. True and loud.

Neither passenger says anything next for the rest of the ride. With the RK900's gaze fixed on the seat ahead of it, and the RK800's gaze focused on the things happening outside of the window. The thick heavy silence has continued its visit, staying for an indeterminate while, making itself a warm cup of coffee and frowning deeply.

After four more minutes, lights that flicker between red and blue slowly began to appear, dazzingly bright and colorful and are the first to be seen as the car gradually comes to a stop near a endless wave of cameras and uniformed policemen.

The wave was near a large, condemned, building-- or rather apartment, with a chainlink fence and boarded up windows that seemed to feel more and more unfriendly with each moment that passed and each moment the vehicle closer to it. It was a mix of brown and black, with the outside walls already seeming to have started to rot slowly away. There was a holographic line that read: *_DO NOT CROSS BEYOND THIS LINE_* that separated Detroit's population from Detroit's general law enforcement.

There was a large group of people outside of the line, and a number of people with microphones that held them up to various officers, and a cameraman could be seen not far behind. Other than this, the rest of the humans in the group were no doubt the various residents of the neighborhood who found themselves disturbed by lights and commotion at such a late hour.

The car fully stops. The automated goodbye message of the taxi plays and floats through the air as the doors swing open by themselves. Connor observed the activity as Cyrus began to move from its seat. The two androids exchange a look-- once, before Connor's feet swing out of the cab and fall onto the ground below it.

The stars were plentiful in the night sky. Despite the lateness of the hour they did not sleep in the saftey of the black sky. And the moon, a crescent version, shined brightly down at the neighborhood, illuminating the world inside of it.

Something about the whole scene felt far too familiar.

The two begin a brisk walk towards the building, becoming closer to the small crowd with each step. Nearby, a small, yorkshire terrier stood by a brown haired green eyed woman on a leash, barking softly at those that passed, while a man with shaved hair and brown eyes struggled to speak to the officers at the scene.

"Joss Douglas, for Channel 16. Is there anything you can tell us about what has happened? Can you confirm android involve--"

"The DPD isn't giving any more information out to the public at this time, sorry." The grey haired, hazel eyed form of Ben Collins interrupts, shooting down the reporter swiftly as his gaze stays on the group of people. Cyrus moves through the crowd of people, attempting to swim through the ocean.

Connor, however, pauses for a brief second, glancing at the scene around it and at Cyrus's moving form before bending down, gettting down to the small animal on the leashes level for a moment. The owner's focus seemed to be entierely dedicated to the commotion ahead, and did not notice the android's sudden appearance. Brown eyes meet the small yorkshire's own blinks in its gaze. The animal's brown tail was vigorous and speedy, and stared at the android with visible excitement, tugging on the leash.

Without a clear reason, the android begins to run a hand through the animal's fur. It was soft, warm, and the android was close enough to where the dog could lick its free hand. And for a moment, Connor seemed to forget about the mission at hand.

*_"Ah-- easy, Sumo--"_*

****SOFTWARE INSTABILITY++++****

Connor inhales suddenly, caught off guard, a brief grimace. Its hand stays still on the animal's fur for a long second as it blinks. Connor's eyes glance around, and towards the dog once more, before rising again, shaking its head. *_It was nothing._* It thought.

Like dust in the wind, the moment is gone and over with in an instant.

Connor rise again. It turns, facing the crowd again and searching for Cyrus in it, eyes catching the back of its jacket somewhere inside of it. Turning, Connor begins to catch up with the other android, moving through the crowd somewhat roughly. Once it is through, it catches the flash of various cameras belonging to reporters, causing it to blink rapidly, before moving through the yellow holographic police line.

The two of them were the only androids at the scene. More specifically, the two of them were the only androids allowed anywhere *_near_* a crime scene. The rebuilding of androids during this month had been careful to not include any models designed for law enforcement.

Ben's eyes travel towards the duo of androids approaching. His expression seemed tired, exhausted, even. His conversation with another officer seemingly ceased as he took them both in, reluctantly moving from where he stood and beginning to walk towards the two, looking back towards the officer he was talking to and saying something Connor could not make out before looking back at the two machines.

"Ah christ." He mutters, staring at them both with somewhat of a exasperated expression. "You two... made it." He remarks, looking at them both.

Cyrus stops, gazing at the building. "Well being here *_is_* part of our primary function, Detective Collins. We--"

"Yeah, yeah, just... come on in. Sometimes I really miss Hank..."

"This place is set to be condemned in a a couple of days," Ben starts as they begin to walk. "most people moved out by now so it's essentially a ghost town but y'know, there's always a few people who wait until the last minute to leave and well..."

Ben leads them towards the entrance of the building, or rather, the grey door that seemed to be slowly rotting away and falling apart with each minute that passed. A more solid, physical copy of police tape sat at the front of the opened door, and they watch as Ben pauses for a moment, before ducking under it. The two androids follow suit a moment later.

Ben stops once his feet step foot inside, glancing at something further in. His expression was visibly uncomfortable. "Landlords find something like... *_this..._*

Connor's chocolate eyes follow the man's unnerved gaze, head moving towards a nearby spot on the floor. Various officers and forensics people were moving within the area, occassionally glancing at the spot.

The dark haired, brown eyed form of a human male was splayed out on the apartment's frail wood, a deep, red hole decorating the center of his chest. His skin was sickly grey and his lifeless eyes stared up at the rotted roof above him, and his hand was limply laid near a series of large, carved on letters on the wood of the floor.

****ALIVE ALIVE ALIVE ALIVE ALIVE ALIVE ALIVE ALIVE ALIVE ALIVE****

Connor blinks, furrowing its brows at the grotesque scene as it scans the man.

****NORM. SEPTEMBER. (DECEASED)****  
****BORN: 04. 12. 1985.**** ****CONSTRUCTION WORKER****

"The landlord said he came by to see if the guy-- er-- September Norm-- had packed up and moved yet since he wasn't returning any of his calls and he only had this week left to leave. Said this, is what he was greeted with." Ben informs from near the door.

"The word 'alive' was carved repeatedly. *_Exactly_* ten times." Cyrus muses beside Connor, thinking out loud as it glances at the android.

The human sighs. "Yeah. All of this feels... a bit too *_familiar_* so most of us were thinking there might be *_android_* involvement." Ben's eyes narrow, glancing towards Connor and Cyrus pointedly, accusing, in a way that has Connor's systems simulating discomfort.

"Did he have one?" Connor asks.

"The landlord said he saw him with one *_years_* ago. But as far as having one this year? He doesn't know."

Connor purses its lips, tearing its head away from the detective and glancing down at the body once more.

Ben began to move from behind them, moving closer to the door. "His room number was door 12 if you needed it, i'll be outside if you need me." The human disappears out of the door, leaving the two androids only the company of the corpse.

Cyrus is the first to speak, beginning to move. "I'll check around, see what I can find."

Connor glances towards it, giving a low hum in acknowledgement as the RK900 moves through a door, disappearing. The RK800 moves forward, bending down to the level of the human on the floor.

Its eyes find something silver on the ground as it gets closer. Moving a hand, its fingers scoop something-- which on closer inspection Connor discovers is a bullet, up in its right hand, instantly analyzing.  
  
****AMMUNITION****  
****CALIBRE: .355****  
****WEAPON: PISTOL****

The data floats around the android, who already finds itself focused on another task. Connor glances at the gunshot wound in the man's chest, bringing up a finger towards it and dipping the substance on its finger, bringing it to its mouth.

****DNA ANALYSIS: NORM, SEPTEMBER.********SAMPLE DATE: 15 HOURS****

*_"-The hell are you doing--"_*

*_"I can check samples in real time. I'm sorry, I should of warned you--"_*

Connor snaps back into reality, only just realizing its eyes chose to stare at a spot on the floor for several seconds too many. For a split incomprehensible second, it can smell whiskey. Brown pants and shoes seem to appear near its head as its head snaps open to face the sudden arrival, however the moment it does, blinking, the shoes and pants are gone.

It thought... it thought there wouldn't be anymore... events like this.

Shaking its head as it returns to its work, its eyes spot something curled in the weak grip of the man's left hand. It opens the man's hand, Connor spotting a pair of keys in them. Upon further inspection, the key seemed to have traces of thirium on them. Connor brought a finger to its mouth.

****MODEL: WR600. SAMPLE DATE> 15 HOURS****

****VICTIM TRIED TO DEFEND HIMSELF?****

Connor's face fell. The possibility of android involvement was much higher now. This wasn't supposed to *_happen_* anymore. Innocent human lives weren't meant to be endangered by android lives anymore.

****VICTIM ATTACKED DURING MORNING. SAW MURDERER DOWN HERE? USED KEYS TO DEFEND HIMSELF?****

Connor's expression is pensive. Its brown eyes dart to the stairs a few feet ahead of it. It rises, glancing one last time at the body before its feet move towards the steps.

The steps in question were old, and very clearly seemed to be falling apart, much like the rest of the building. Connor moved its hand towards the fragile railing as it used its left foot to stand on the first step. It creaked, and felt unsteady. The android glanced up the staircase, before moving back towards the body, reaching down to collect the keys in the man's hands.

Returning to the steps, Connor carefully put two feet onto the second step. When the creaks could be heard, but the steps no longer felt as unsteady as the first one, Connor began to ascend the staircase, hand traveling with it on the old railing.

Eventually, Connor's feet found the last step on the ten steps of the stairs. Feet falling onto proper ground again, the RK800 paused, glancing around at the hallway before it.

There were exactly ten doors on this level, with the rest of them on the previous floor. There was a hole in the ceiling above Connor on this floor, and a slight hole a few feet from the android on the ground. Raising its brows, Connor began to move.

The floors creaked and groaned the moment it did, a dark, dangerous phantom of the late night, a growling, gigantic monster that foamed hungrily at the foot of your bed emitting inhuman sounds of displeasure that flickered between moans and laughter as Connor stepped on it. However, Connor continued despite it. The android was careful as it walked, but made sure to observe every detail around it, its focus alternating between the two.

There was a long, dusty, wooden bat that laid discarded on the floor around it as Connor approached. It was behind a large brown crate that seemed to have yet to be taken out of the building, or possibly a crate that had been purposefully abandoned. When its eyes fell onto it, it noticed the red dried specks that were small in number, but present on the beige of the bat.

The deviant hunter paused, leaning down to analyze the specks, grasping the bat firmly and laying it out in its hands.

****DNA ANALYSIS: NORM, SEPTEMBER. SAMPLE DATE: 15 HOURS****

Its brows rose slightly as its expression became thoughtful. It set the bat gently down again, returning it to its hidden spot as it rose again.

****ATTACK STARTED HERE?****

A small, but deeply present creak sounded off as the android stood there. Its body turned around, to look behind it, eyes carefully darting around it. Connor's eyes narrowed, backing away from the bat and moving down the hallway again, slower this time, more observant. Its feet touched the ground lightly, this time getting a much more softer creak in response.

For a moment Connor stood completely still, stiff, a board. Its ears listened, anticipated and waited for any sound to greet it-- but no sound ever came.

Connor glanced at the keys in its palm, and then towards the hallway again. It began again, moving towards the doors slowly.

It passed the various doors, each with a number the android was not seeking. The numbers glowed a faint, dim, orange, and most hung off of the door, dangling loosely from the wood.

The door in question had the misfortune of being the last door in the hallway, and it stood at the very end, a lone, unsociable, thing.

The door was also, currently *_ajar._*

Connor noticed it almost instantly, and stopped in its tracks for a moment, before it began to cautiously move forward again, sensors more alert as its eyes never left the space ahead of them.

It got closer, beginning to be able to see the lights that were on inside of the room. Connor cocked its head, craning it slightly--

Something darts out of the room quickly, a dark form that moves too fast for Connor to be able to initially see. However the RK800 is quicker, hand darting out to catch the form before it moves any further away from Connor.

The figure struggles in its grasp, but gradually becomes more than just a shape as it slows down.

In Connor's grasp was a blonde haired, hazel eyed WR600 android who had a stricken expression on its face. The deviant hunter attempted to restrain it better, however the deviant broke free, backing away from Connor towards a large, broken, window that had not yet been boarded up.

"Please, calm down." Connor begins, breaking the silence in a reassuring tone, raising its hands in a peaceful gesture towards the android. "You can't run, you won't get far, this place is crawling with police."

"Please just let me go. I didn't--I didn't mean to *_do_* what I did but..." The WR600 trails off, panic in its expression and voice scared.

****STRESS LEVELS: 88%****

Connor gets closer, slowly, hands still up. "What's your name?" It asks, attempting to calm the android in a soft voice. "My name is Connor."

The android doesn't speak for a moment, its LED flashing a bright, menacing crimson that illuminated the walls around them. "P-Peyton. I'm-- Peyton."

Connor stared at the deviant. "I just want to know why you did it. Why did you kill an innocent human?"

Peyton scoffs. "Innocent." It echoed. "All he.. all he ever did was treat everyone else like crap." Through tears, Peyton's face morphs into somewhat of a snarl. "He was such an-- an *_asshole."_* Peyton's feet began to move back slowly. "The humans are better off not having him in their world anymore."

****STRESS LEVELS 90%****

Connor pursed its lips, eyebrows softening. "Why did you stay here?"

Peyton shrugs, tears continuing to roll. "It's not like I had anywhere else, you know androids can't walk the streets by themselves anymore." It shakes its head. "I was a dead man the moment I shot him." Its voice is hollow.

Connor steps forward, hands lowered but it still hoped its expression was calming. "Please. Just come with me, I can take you into custody, and later you can be analyzed, the error in your software can maybe even be fixed!" Connor's tone was gentle, persuasive.

****STRESS LEVELS: 98%****

Peyton shakes its head. "I don't want *_this_* fixed. I want-- I want to live, I want to be *_free!"_* Something crosses the androids face, something dangerous and mournful. "I want to be free."

Peyton's feet move back again as its body began to lean backward, and Connor realizes what is happening almost too late. Connor steps forward quickly, hand gripping the androids foot.

And Peyton's left shoe comes off.

The rest of the deviant descends out the window head first. Connor's eyes darted to the black shoe in its grip, before registering the new event, running towards the window.

The android lands on the concrete below with a sickening, *_crunch_* that resonates loudly within the world, within the atmosphere, it shakes the core and crust of the earth, nearly deafening the RK800.

Connor sees the crowd that originally stood out front migrate towards the side of the building, various cameras and reporters migrating with them. Blue began to trickle down on the concrete, staining the white.

****SOFTWARE INSTABILITY++++++****

Connor closed its eyes, shaking its head as it stood near the window, the sounds of the alarmed voices in the crowd filling the spring air of the night.


	17. Chapter 17: Connor VI

CONNOR

****APRIL. 23rd. 2040. 2:00PM. MONDAY.****

Cars move quickly across the highway as the sun beats down on the sea of police and vehicles to the side of it.

The RK800 stands in a small crowd of uniformed officers, accompanied by the RK900 as it stood taking in the scene. A roadblock was scattered around it, blocking vehicles from approaching on this side of the road. The road was a light show of dazzling blue and red.

One Aaron Ree, aged thirty-six, blonde haired and golden eyed, recently discharged from a three day local Detroit hospital stay for minor, but fairly deep wounds, to his arms, stands with the gathering. Providing as much information on the AJ200 android that had inflicted them as he could. Near them, the stolen car of Zara Clinton, that now sported a broken taillight.

The two androids stood next to each other, hands behind their own respective backs as their eyes move.

"I don't think it went far. It would of chose somewhere discrete but nearby to laid low after making such a scene." Cyrus remarks beside Connor, its blue eyes gazing at the hectic scene around it. It almost had to yell to be heard through the cars passing in the other lane.

The RK800 hums in response. "It couldn't of walked on the highway without being seen, it got this far, it wouldn't of risked it." Connor muses.

Cyrus moves away from the android, arms floating to its side again and out of the corner of its eye it spots the android move towards the highway's guard rail. The sun shined unceasingly down upon the two, bright and unfailingly enthusiastic.

After a moment alone, Connor turned, finding Cyrus's form again and glancing at the android who's gaze was fixed on the trees outside of guard rail.

The deviant hunter frowned, moving over to the android. "Is something wrong?" It asks.

Cyrus's gaze never leaves the trees, but it shakes its head once. "You said it probably didn't go far." There's a small moment of silence before the android turns its head towards Connor. "Maybe... its closer than we thought."


	18. Chapter 18: Eui IX

Eui

****APRIL. 23rd. 2040. 2:10PM. MONDAY.****

The sun smiles down at her as the flowers keep her company.

The ground feels smooth and plentiful as her fingers become stained with the earth. Her pants are caked with the dirt below her legs, the dirt kissing her skin and hands as she softly hums in a surreal moment of proper peace.

She cuts the branches and stems nearby with shears, the tips coming off and falling to the ground smoothly.

Hamster's sleeping form is nestled near her feet, his brown coat of fur being kept warm by the gentle rays of the sun. The wind is slightly strong and fully alive as she kneels down in the grass around her. Beside her, were green gardening shears that meet the tips of the various branches and stems around her.

She guides a strand of hair out of her eyes, tucking a strand behind her right ear as she struggles to tame it in the wind. Birds sat in trees and chattered up in their high places, and somewhere far in the distance she could smell something possibly being cooked. The type of smell that, if she was able to actually eat the meal it belonged to, would have her feeling nothing but a strong, hunger filled desire to seek it out and enjoy it.

It wasn't a good idea, being out of the bunker. No one ever seemed to come this way but she thought it was still too risky. Anna and Clementine were somewhere out here too, farther in the clearing and Eui could no longer see either of them, although she wholeheartedly believed after only three days with the android that Anna would take on a sea of humans if they could, and Clementine seemed to only be with for the sake of keeping the other some company.

But after the fresh air she recieved today, however frightening the circumstances of it had momentarily been, Eui finds that she wants to enjoy the air for just a little while longer, to soak in the sun's golden, compassionate rays and breathe in the godly air before retreating inside the hallways of the dark, suffocating, bunker. If not to remind herself that things such as the outside world did exist.

She found the shears in a dusty corner and section of Anna's packed room, uneeded and never used, and a packet of seeds that had yet to grow in the dirt beside her and some that were currently in the process of being planted. And only more recently discovered the growing interest of gardening inside of her.

Before she went deviant, when she was still simply the AJ200 model with various names, at night she'd find herself sneaking outside without really understanding why, to sit in the garden for a moment. Eventually these sessions came to include Alex.

Two deviants who had yet to deviate sitting under the stars.

It was peaceful. She thought. And now it felt so long ago.

In a way, all of it felt like going deviant again. The way it felt when realizing that things that she previously had done under someone else's orders were sometimes somehow inexplicably more calmer and nicer when done under her *_own_* orders. Finding endlessly more about herself and discovering what made her, *_her._* She had hardly any time post deviancy *_to_* decide and figure any of it out. Since the moment she broke the wall it had almost exclusively been nothing but fear and fleeing.

It kept her sane, at the very least. Some things she tried inside of the bunker were either too dull or too difficult, with what little amount of things to do were inside of it to begin with. But not having anything to do would slowly but surely throw her into a madness. Being human came with hobbies.

It also was nice, having a moment that was simply hers and hers alone. Even if it was risky. It felt more peaceful than some act of defiance. Those feelings of comfort were rare. More rare than they should of been.

She wishes they weren't. And once again she found herself wondering again if there were many deviants beside the ones around her out there. Whether it was for her sake, or due to some blind hope, she believed there had to of been.

The door to the bunker opens with a groan, and her eyes flicker to the source of the sudden interruption, a sideways hand shielding her eyes as she moves her body and glances towards it, Hamster's ears perking up as he rises in curiousity.

The form of Pepper comes into view as she rolls out of the bunker door and glances towards Eui's bent down form. The two make eye contact for a moment, before she began to come her way, the door slowly closing behind them.

"Probably isn't a good idea to be out here, you know." The AJ200 informs, calling out as her attention falls back to her growing garden, the wind continuing to blow her hair roughly onto her face. She wasn't upset by company, more so, wanting to focus on the gardening before she felt too exposed and lost her nerve entirely to be out here.

Pepper laughs, a warm, melodic sound that felt somehow safe. Her emerald eyes watched the other woman. "That so? What do you call all of this then?" Her hand waved towards the dirt.

"I have a habit of making irrational decisions. Sue me. You don't seem like the type though, so..."

"Eh. I'm plenty irrational, it's dangerous inside of there too. And besides, Henry's awful when he's bored, he won't stop singing the *_same_* Depeche Mode song over and over again." Pepper explains with a grimace.

There was something strange about the android, Eui thought. Not in a bad, or exactly weird way, but there was something about her. Despite rooting for her quick execution the day she arrived her, Pepper did not seem to be a person who advocated often for something so rash. She didn't seem like the type to suggest fighting so early, but she wasn't someone who was a pacifist either. Her personality felt colorful, if a bit quiet, but nothing about her felt docile, nor did anything about her feel aggressive. It was a nice middle ground of a personality.

Pepper's eyes glance at the dirt and flowers. "So what's all this anyways? You're a gardner?"

Eui hums, nodding her head once. "I wouldn't really call myself a gardner, I just started, but i'm trying to be. My last owner had a garden and it felt sort of relaxing to take care of it before I left." She confesses, remembering Zara and shrugging as she uses the shears to cut a branch that hung low, watching as it fell to the dirt beneath.

Pepper's dark eyebrows raise, quizzical. "You *_enjoyed_* it?"

Eui pauses her task, face uncertain for a moment. "I didn't go deviant after I was sent to them, it's... a long story, but I was deviant for the entire time I was with them." She admits, looking at Pepper again as Hamster trots over to the other android. It occured to her that even information so small still felt like a mountain. Maybe she just didn't like talking about herself, she thought. Alex had always joked that her model must have been made with bricks in place of plastic.

Pepper's face absorbed the information. "Oh. Henry said you hadn't been rebuilt like us. That feels... almost reassuring. Should it feel reassuring?" She questions, bringing a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun.

Eui looked thoughtful. "I don't know. I don't *_feel_* like some reassurance. All I did was survive this long." She finished.

"Mmm. Maybe it's just me, then. Nina says I could see the good in even a funeral."

The AJ200 laughed. "That doesn't sound like a bad thing, really. I wish *_I_* had those problems."

The clouds began to roll in, and the two of them enjoyed the rays of the sun their faces as they continue to take in each other's company before it disappeared within the clouds. "Have you been alone though? These two years? Did you not 'survive this long' with another android?"

Once again, for the third time that day, her mind thought of Alex. She pushes down the ache she feels at the question in favor of simply responding with: "When I went deviant I had someone with me, another android who I had... fallen in love with. They deviated around the same time I did. The short version of it is I don't know where they are now." She states in a matter of fact, resigned, voice. Her attention moving back towards the flowers in front of her.

Revolutions had body counts. Regardless of their outcomes.

Pepper is silent for a moment, and Eui ignores the feeling of discomfort she felt towards the act of opening up as much as she did, however small the amount actually was. Her eyes glance briefly at a series of bushes. Pepper's mouth opens, frowning. "I--"

The bushes further into the clearing began to move, a flock of birds fleeing from the trees around them and causing the dark haired android to squint her eyes in confusion. At first, the excuse of wind causes her to begin turning back to flowers, before she became acutely aware of the sudden lack any of strong, or even *_light_* wind around her.

She paused, her eyes glanced at the trees quite a ways away, frozen in observation on them. Pepper was still speaking behind her, however the android wasn't listening.

"--And--"

"Shh." She orders suddenly, firm, causing Pepper to abruptly end her thought, and causing her to slowly close her mouth shut in wake of the sudden interruption.

Pepper follows her gaze. "What? What is it?" She asks, dropping her voice to a whisper. Hamster made a soft, low, whining noise from his spot near Eui's feet.

There's silence, then, the bushes and trees erupt, and two figures emerge.

"Is that..." Pepper began, squinting.

The figures in question, were Anna and Clementine. If it were not for the fact that both of their faces had something frantic to them, Eui would simply greet the pair before returning to finish up her gardening.

However they were also currently *_running,_* and running people worried her more than expressions ever could.

As they began to get closer the two could started to make out what the androids were yelling as they got closer. Slowly, Eui began to rise from where she knelt in the dirt.

"Run! Fucking get in the bunker you two! Someone's coming!" Clementine exclaimed as she increased her speed.

"What?!" Pepper cried, eyes widening. Eui began to back away slowly, feet moving backwards on their own accord towards the door as terror infected her systems. Anna and Clementine ran past her as Pepper moved her wheelchair towards the door, scooping up Hamster on her way.

Anna's hands found the handle of the door, and with great strength opened it as it moved further out. "There's cops by the side of the highway back over there, people were coming, we don't have time to go over every single detail now *_come on!"_* They ordered, holding the door open as the other three moved through it quickly, waiting until each made it through before disappearing behind the door and letting it roughly shut behind them.

Eui felt every inch of her become surrounded by a thick wall of icy terror as it shut behind her, it froze over her thirium pump and left her unable to properly think of anything but finding saftey. However she stood frozen in place once inside, ears ringing as she watched as Anna helped Pepper up the ladder quickly, taking Hamster out of the android's arms and up first before helping the android, grabbing the wheelchair up with them a moment later as Pepper was settled into it, the AJ200 watching as she rolled hurriedly away.

Clementine walked past her as she stood stiffly in place, ascending the ladder as Anna crouched, perched on the ledge leading to the ladder as they watched the two that had yet to climb. Every second the android in front of them spent climbing was another impatient impossible moment that Eui felt the hot waves of fear set further inside of her.

Eventually Clementine gets to the top of the the last step, pushing herself onto the ledge, quickly darting away and Eui almost trips over herself as her hands find the ladder next, on an autopilot of survival as her feet move up step after step.

On the third to last one she misses a step, nearly falling from the simple ladder and back onto the ground. However Anna steadied her, grabbing a fistful of her sweater and pulling her up roughly as Eui doesn't miss a beat, falling onto the ground above the ladder and scrambling to move, rising a moment later as she watches as Anna ran quickly past.

Without much room to think the android follows their trail out of the room with Clementine as Pepper moved in a seperate direction.

The two of them scramble into another part of the bunker a moment later, the surprised forms of Nina and Henry greeting them as Eui nearly accidentally toppled over running in their direction.

Almost instantly, Clementine ran over to where Nina stood perplexed, tugging at the androids arm firmly in an attempt to get her to move. Henry walked closer to them, expression alarmed.

"What is it? What's happened?" He questions, his eyes moving to each of their three frantic forms.

"Police, we need to *_hide!"_* Clementine answers, already pulling Nina with her towards the cover of the wall that lead to a hallway, shoving both of them behind it roughly.

Henry's face seemed pale if it was even possible for androids, eyes darting around. "Pepper, where's she?" He asks.

"She went to hide somewhere else now *_move"_* Anna responds fast, ducking behind a large locker that had fallen on its side, crouching behind it on all fours as it just nearly obscured their head.

Eui's thirium pump threatens to burst out of her chest cavity as it takes her almost ten seconds to find a place behind wooden crates that she quickly stacked on top of each other, her back leaning against it as she effectively obscured her figure and she noticed that one had 'RA9' carved into it. And Henry moved behind a desk to Eui's left, crouching so that his figure was successfully hidden.

The silver in her pocket had never felt so crucial before, and her hand hovers over it, slowly sliding it out of her pocket with ease. It clattered to the ground beside her, and she brought her knees to her chest, gripping the knife tightly in her right hand as she brought it up to her chest so that the tip of it faced the roof.

There is a large, uncomfortably and terrifyingly long, minute of silence in which no in the room dares to speak. And in which the world simply *_waits._*

Then, in the distance, muffled by walls but still audible, the sounds of a door groaning as it slowly opens fills the air.

In the same moment her eyes notice the flames that still licked the inside of a barrel.

Brown eyes widen, and for a moment they flick towards the redhead five feet away from her, gesturing with her head towards the flames in a moment of realization. Anna stares at the barrel in a moment of confusion before their eyes meet hers in understanding.

Anna's jacket comes off quickly, a shirt underneath remaining as they throw it towards the other android, quick to think as Eui curses under her breath, catching the apparel in mid air and darting towards the barrel as she smacks the flames harshly with the RT600's jacket, struggling to end the fire as footsteps are heard from somewhere nearby.

The flames die out, and in the same exact moment she flees back to her spot, kneels colliding with the rough ground as she backs up against the boxes again. She glances at the jacket in her hands as footsteps become uncomfortably more near, shoving the fabric behind her back.

The footsteps get closer, and although she didn't dare risk being seen by taking a peak, *_they were no doubt in the same room as them now._*

****STRESS LEVELS: 80%****

Her breathing program stops as she stares at the wall in front of her, pump booming heavily inside of her as the feet begin to walk again. Her grip on the knife tightens, unyielding and intense as she prepared for the possibility of having to use it. But for the moment she stood unceasingly still, refusing to even let her sienna eyes blink as she bit her lip harshly, drawing a small speck of thirium that felt cold on her tongue.

This was her fault. She thought. They had to of been near the highway because of what she did to that officer. They *_had_* to of been. If she hadn't acted so-- so *_panic_* driven, they wouldn't of even *_been_* here.

She shouldn't of come here.

In a moment in which she thought she should be braver than she actually felt, she impulsively moved her head and slightly turned her body, attempting to peak to her left from her spot behind the boxes.

She expects to see a uniformed human with an unfriendly, hungry, face that searched throughout the room as she foolishly looks. Or even one with any sort of expression on their face as they moved throughout the room slowly for the deviants within it.

Instead, there is an android that felt unbearably familiar to see that walked within it. His head was to the right, glancing at something she couldn't see.

Her mouth opens slightly, eyebrows softening at the figure. Suddenly she was once again free from the recycling camps as she walked towards the android on a stage who had brought thousands of their people with him through the streets of Detroit before hell had completely erupted.

What... had *_changed?_* How does a deviant become.... not? Was freedom simply erasable? She didn't believe that the android had been faking anything, with what very, very little she saw of him that night. Why on earth would he free all those people if he...

Her head snaps back behind the boxes quickly as the deviant hunter pauses where he stood, head moving gradually towards the left of him. There was an agonizing scream of her thirium pump as she sat, mouthing a string of inaudible curses at herself for spending almost too long looking. Her eyes fell closed for a moment, shaking her head once before going stiff again.

She spared a glance in Anna's direction, who seemed to have also seen the android, who's face held a brief expression of recollection to it before they stared back down at the ground from where they hid.

There's a moment where nothing happens, and the deviant hunter does not move, and then the room resumes, and he began to move once again, the sounds of his steps seemingly getting increasingly closer.

She spares a small glance and sees his form near the barrel beside the locker, an unidentifiable expression on Anna's face as they continued to crouch, keeping their cool despite the sudden nearness of the android.

The android stood near the once burning fire for a number of seconds, and although she could not see his face anymore she imagined a pensive, expression on his face.

*_Just go, just go, just go, just GO!_* She thought frantically about the android, willing her hands to stop shaking as her thirium pump beat unceasingly fast under her chest. The silence was too much, too... too *_vast,_* too long and frightful.

She watched as Henry began to slide something out slowly from his pockets from where he hid, her focus was fixed on him as something fell into his hands to keep it from falling onto the ground loudly. He looked at her, only just noticing her gaze and gradually began to wave it once silently as he showed her.

Eui's gaze fell on the pistol in his hands. And an understanding crossed between the two of them as grey stared into brown. However her eyes narrowed, and she began to shake her head silently.

*_"No! Don't shoot him!"_* She hissed inside of the man's head.

*_"Why not? He could find us-- hell even kill us, Eui!"_* Henry's eyes stared at her in confusion as his tone was laced with justifications.

*_"You don't know if he came alone or not if you shoot him the whole damn neighborhood will know!"_*

She doesn't expect to be the voice of reason against making impulsive, survival driven moves, but there was a first for everything as she stared at the android. It was a good reason not to shoot, but stopping him was driven more by the part of her that didn't want more of their kind killed. Even if they were still prisoners to their programs. He was still one of them.

Markus wouldn't.

Henry stares back for a moment, eyes narrowing as he glances down at the gun, before he shoves it quietly back into the pocket of his jacket, giving a look to Eui before he went quiet again.

To her left, the sudden sound of something moving across the ground near the entrance to the room could be heard. It was too light to be more police, or even another android. For a moment her chest lessens in their booms in a second of complete confusion.

She turns again, peeking from her position behind the boxes.

Hamster was in the center of the room, trotting further into it. The deviant hunter seemed to spot him, pausing in place near the barrel before slowly walking towards him. She glanced at Anna, who's eyes were slightly widened as they stared at Hamster being approached.

He looked down at the Corgi for a long second. The second ends, and he began to slowly bend down from where he stood still, now in a crouch position as Hamster stared up at him in idle wonder, before the android's pale hand lifted from where it laid at his side, scratching Hamster's left ear gently and next running a hand through his fur slowly. There was a faint, inexplicable, soft, smile on his face as he did.

The moment-- whatever it was-- was over as quickly as it came a minute later when a sound came from somewhere in the hallway. The android's head snapped up, body rising as it turned so that it was facing the archway for the hallway a good seven feet from it.

Eui's eyes widen, a sense of dread ignited within her as she remembered the walls of the hallway to be both of the KL900 model's current hiding spots.

*_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!_* She thought.

The deviant hunter's form began to move slowly, Hamster walking to somewhere else within the room. His feet clicked against the ground and he began to get closer, movements focused.

Her heart pounded a hole within her chest, angry and terror stricken as she listened to his footsteps become closer and closer with each second. She had to do something-- *_anything,_* there was no way she could just let him find the two because she chose to endanger them all by fleeing here!

She began to rise.

More footsteps fill the air in the same second.

"Connor." A voice calls from near the entrance of the room. She pauses in a halfway position of standing and crouching, her body however was still obscured by the many boxes piled onto each other, and she froze awkwardly place, a sort of unnaturally stiff that only an android could achieve.

The footsteps near the hallway cease abruptly. A second of silence. "Yes?" The deviant hunter speaks. She could hear as his footsteps got farther away from the hallway archway.

"There's nothing here. I'm sorry, my theory was wrong." The other android apologizes.

"Do you want to leave?" Connor asks.

A pause. Eui feels an unstoppable hope flood her systems at the suggestion. "At this point we're wasting time. The AJ200 didn't go this way." The second deviant hunter admits. And she feels the eyes of her fellow deviants on her at the statement.

The sound of both their footsteps began to gradually fade as they both left the room. And there's a long silence that seems to follow.

No one in the room moves, or speaks, however. And it isn't until the sound of the door closing in the distance does she allow herself to resume breathing. But there is another minute of silence despite it.

Eventually, she watches Henry and Anna move from their places. A moment after they do she finds the courage to move as well, fully standing as she sees Clementine and Nina move from their spot behind the wall.

Henry releases a breath, sighing as they all glance at each other. "That was... too close. Way too fucking close." He is the first to speak.

"No thanks to the 'AJ200' over here." Nina stares at her, voice accusing. "Who wasn't careful in whatever they did and led the cops right to us!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't think--"

"Hmm shocker! You don't say." Nina remarks.

"Alright stop!" Anna yells, catching the two's attention as Pepper began to roll into the room. "Nina, this isn't the first time the cops came around, and all of you were on the run when each of you came here for the first time. But we *_handled_* it each time unscathed. You're scared. We all are. Don't take it out on her."

Nina sighs, averting her gaze. "Yeah, okay, fair point. You're rig--"

"No, Nina is right." Eui suddenly speaks. "They only came around here because of me. They wouldn't of suspected this place if I had just gone somewhere else. I put you all in danger, i'm sorry."

The room is silent for a moment. "What did you even do?" Pepper asks from across the room.

She sighs, running a hand through her hair. "I... was driving a stolen car and I got pulled over. I think he knew it was stolen and I--I panicked and attacked him with my knife."

Henry's eyebrows raise. "Did you kill him?" He questions.

Eui shook her head. "No, I... I got his gun from him and... I almost did. I didn't but I almost did. That's why all those cops were by the highway." She admits.

"RA9..." Pepper says.

"I can leave, I know I could of gotten you all killed today." She says softly.

No one says anything. Eui began to move.

"No, wait." Henry catches her arm. "If... if we threw out everyone who had ever done something impulsive and risky Lou would of been thrown to the wolves on day one, and I would of been ran out of here ages ago."

She looked at him in confusion. "Why aren't you kicking me out?"

Clementine laughs. Eui looked at them. "You screwed up, welcome to the club."

She nods, averting her gaze. "Okay..."

It felt... reassuring, almost. It was an odd feeling she felt when looking at the group. She wasn't sure how all of this made her feel.

"Okay, this has been fun and all," Anna says after a moment of more silence. "But i'm going to find a nice empty and dark room and go into standby, RA9 knows I wish I could *_actually_* sleep after all of this." They mutter, feet moving slowly before disappearing from the room.

The room began to slowly but surely preoccupy itself, with Anna heading towards a hallway and Clementine and Nina turning on a nearby televison to a news report as they lowered themselves to the floor to sit.

Henry started to gather scattered planks from different spots on the ground, picking each of them up one by one as he gathered them in his arms. Eui watched as he traveled towards the now unlit barrel, roughly depositing the bundle of wood inside of it. He fumbled with something inside of his pockets before a lighter appeared in his hands, a fire beginning to emerge inside of the barrel.

Eui released a breath, watching the series of events. The sounds of the generator hummed softly but consistently in the background. Whether she released a sigh of relief or a sigh without any meaning she wasn't sure. But she knew that she was alive.


	19. Chapter 19: Eui X

  
Eui

****JUNE. 25TH. 2040. 8:00PM. MONDAY.****

"Are you really serious? You've *_really_* never-- *_never_* seen a fish before?"

Nina's incredulous expression stared back at her, her brown eyebrows raising and the corners of her mouth twitching in bemusement as she leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her navy blue jacket crinkled and groaned from the action.

Eui shrugs in the light of the bunker's tv, what little light there was to it illuminated her face and the grey hoodie she managed to find with a soft, dim, glow as it played a show at a soft volume, tucking a strand of hair behind her left ear as she looked up at the android from where she sat a few feet from her. "I've been alive for a good while, I just never had the opportunity to see any real ones." She admits.

They were only talking about this because Nina had mentioned the ocean in a completely seperate conversation and Eui had mentioned offhandedly that she wished to see the ocean one day because she had never seen said fish before. And even then it wasn't entirely true, one of her past owners had her accompany their granddaughter to the zoo a long time ago. There had to of been fish there, an opportunity to see them was as well, though, said granddaughter had no interest in going to see any of them.

"Not even once? Seriously?" Clementine asks from beside Nina. The generator beside her hummed softly as they stood together.

"That's so bizarre." Pepper remarks to her left. "I mean, i've been alive for only a few months and even i've seen a fish." She glances down at the sleeping form of Hamster near her chair. "That's like... never seeing a dog."

Eui's laughter floats through the bunker like a melody, echoing in the barely furnished room. "To be fair, dogs are always around, you see fish around water. Who's even around bodies of water that often anyways?" She doesn't bring up the circumstances of having to previously (and even currently) spend most of her time as a deviant keeping a lower than most low profile.

The last owner she had before deviating lived in home by a lake just outside of Detroit. It was large and plentiful, and quite beautiful as she began to remember it, and the moon made it shine brightly during the night. She's sure there might of been some form of fish living in it, though in the one year she spent in the lakeside home she had never been around the water long enough to have spotted anything alive in it. She had mostly cooked and cleaned inside while Alex had tended to the garden outside of it.

She hated it. The owner had been an arrogant and entitled asshole from the very first day, and was in her top three reasons behind deviating. The only thing that had made that year tolerable when constantly being around his brash words and cocky personality had been the endless garden behind it and Alex

She hated nostalgia. And she hated spending time dwelling on the past, but for Eui the times spent in the garden and near the lake had always been the exception in her desire to leave the unchangeable past deep in the unchangeable past. Those were the only instances in which she allowed herself to move backwards instead of forwards.

With the arrival of summer the bunker had been more alive than it had been in the past two months. It found common ground in the level of alertness the inhabitants had in the aftermath of a surprise visit from deviant hunters, finding a healthy balance of alert and calm. And Eui was grateful, because if she kept jumping between guilt and caution as she waited for the possibility of someone coming again while her systems were steadily being chewed through by waves of guilt, she's sure she would of ended up losing her *_damn mind._*

What happened, happened. Her impulsive nature had consequences and all she could do was be more careful. Or learn to swim in the feeling of terror with a clear mind towards survival in place of irrationality.

But through the nights and days of alertness and a budding, growing, small level of trust, there were instances of conversations that she realized were perhaps, completely dull and meaningless like these ones, but were also shrouded in a sense of saftey, Ones that almost made her forget that she was not welcomed in the world outside of it. There was less of an aura of being a trapped ghost that walked the halls and rooms, though the feeling had not gone entirely away. It still lingered, like the sun on the edge of the moon kissing it at night.

After several more moments spent talking, the conversation between the four women began to fade into nothing as it slowly came to an end. Pepper began playing with Hamster with a toy that Anna had managed to make last month as Nina and Clementine began a seperate conversation. With Eui's focus gravitating towards the the program that played on the TV as she turned her body around so that she faced it. Some muted news report that only caught her attention because she was able to read lips.

Her eyes squint, watching it without sound for a moment before her interest was high enough for her to find the remote a few feet away on the ground, raising the volume slightly, just enough to be able to hear what the news reporter was saying. When she did, Pepper glanced towards the small televison beside her.

*_"-Did not initially choose to confirm or comment on the question of whether there had been any android involvement in the incident despite the rumors that circulated, however Cyberlife's own CEO came forward over the weekend to confirm that one of their androids was in fact, responsible for the murder of fifty-five year old September Norm, who was found shot dead in a now condemned Detroit apartment complex last April."_*

Eui watches the report with softened brows, a plethora of emotions inside of her as she stared at the screen. She breathed in a long inhale, pursing her lips.

"Woah." Clementine breathes footsteps coming from behind Eui. "Fuck, the android's probably dead now but good on them, holy shit."

Eui's head tilted slightly, eyes darting away towards the TV as glanced in her direction. "*_Good_* on them? They killed someone."

"No android kills for the hell of it, Eui. Whoever they are, they had a reason." The brunette responds, her focus gradually became no longer interested in the program and moved back onto Nina.

Eui sat there for a moment. Her expression looked thoughtful. She supposed that was true. But, everything a deviant did influenced humanity's opinion. And everything a deviant did managed to directly affect another. And the world's view of them was bad enough already. Maybe the android had no choice. Maybe they had plenty of choice. But deviancy was supposed to mean the freedom of the latter.

And besides. Fear is what got them destroyed in the first place.

She watched the program for several more minutes before her interest faded with the end of the news report. She sighed softly, finding the remote and clicking the off button as the tv flickered out and the faces on the screen faded out from existence abruptly.

She sat there for a second before getting up, rising from her spot on the locker as she began to walk. She passed the three other woman in the room, mumbling a short goodbye as she moved into a nearby hallway and began to walk without a destination in mind.

Aimless, her hand traveled on the sickly grey walls, fingers sliding against it smoothly and lightly as she continued. There was hardly any light at the moment in the hallways, save for a room a few feet away that had light steadily pouring out of it.

As she began to consider finding a place and simply falling into standby for the night, faint voices could begin to be heard as she got closer to the room with the light inside of it. She paused, her hand finding its way back to her side. The voices were clear from here, however she felt uncomfortable simply eavesdropping. She moved closer to the room, and once she got close enough, glanced inside.

"-But shouldn't we at least *_try?"_*

"How on earth could we possibly help him? Anna, i'm really sorry but..."

The voices stop, trailing off as Anna and Henry suddenly notice her form against the archway of the open door, having gradually graviatated towards it. Eui's face became apologetic as her gaze flickered between the two of them.

"Oh sorry, I didn't... mean to interrupt. I was just walking..."

Anna's blue eyes give Henry a look. "No, you're fine, Henry here was just explaining how he's fine with letting an innocent android die."

Henry shakes his head, expression frustrated as he rolls his eyes. "I don't want him to die either, but if we try the only thing that will happen is *_all_* of us will die with him."

Eui shook her head, moving away from the wall as she stepped further into the room. "Die with *_who?"_* She asks with slight alarm in her voice. "Who are you even talking about?"

Anna sighed, throwing their hands weakly up. "*_Lou._* It's been *_two_* months and he's not back. He hasn't even communicated with any of us. It's-- annoying."

Anna's concern felt monumental and plentiful, despite the calmness of their tone. And though they seemed to attempt to brush off their concern as more exasperation than anything else, Eui could see through the cool, aloof, mask the android wore at almost all times. Anna had been anxious for the androids return since Eui had gotten here. In their own, *_Anna_* way.

Eui's brows softened, attempting to look as sympathetic as possible despite comforting not being a strong suit of hers. "Well, maybe he's too far away, maybe the neural network you have with him is blocked somehow." She suggests, looking at the two in front of her.

It was a possibility. Not a strong one, since android neural networks were fairly strong regardless of distance and usually only affected if someone purposefully put in the strong effort of trying to scramble and sabotage them.

Or if an android was... dead. But Eui chose to not consider that option, though after this long without word from the android she had never met it felt like the most likely scenario.

"Eui's right. You know Lou, he always comes back. It's not the first time." Henry says, giving Anna a light shove. Though, it didn't sound like he believed what he was saying.

"Lou would try to help save you if the role was reversed and you know it." Anna says softly, moving away from his touch. They move towards a seat in the corner, slowly falling onto it.

"I know he would." Henry says quietly. "But i'm sorry."

The conversation seems to end here, as Anna began to look at a spot on the ground, and Henry began to lean against the wall. After a few good minutes, Eui began to move towards the redheaded android.

She sat down next to them, quiet for a moment as she thought of what to say. However Anna speaks before her.

"Lou really would you know. I mean, he'd save Hamster if he had to." They remark, glancing up towards the wall. "It's so-- he's such an idiot, I mean, *_robbing_* a store? He could of gotten blue blood another way but he chose to just-- be Lou." Anna laments.

Eui softly chuckled. "Sounds like he was a good man. If not, as you put it, a bit of a dumbass."

"That's Lou. And yes, just a bit." They laugh. Their face gradually lost its smile as footsteps could be heard nearby. "Eui?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think there's even a chance he'll come back?

"Who will come back?" A sudden voice says.

The sudden nearness of the voice causes the AJ200 to jump in her spot, body turning around to find the person behind the voice that she did not immediately recognize.

And She freezes where she sits.

Her bronze eyes stare into blue. They stay where they are, keeping eye contact as her face morphs into a mix of disbelief and anger. She stares at a man with pale skin and tied up hair, whose dark shades sat neatly in it. Who wore a clean blue suit and smart, sleek, shoes. She stares into the face of a naturally smirking God and through confusion and budding rage restrains a cold, dark, scowl.

Her mouth fell open. "What the fuck?!" She breathes, eyes squinting. It's louder than she wanted it to be, and it echoes through the room, everywhere at once, a crack of incredulous thunder.

Elijah Kamski stared back at her from across the room. glancing down at her with a bemused expression on his face as he noticed her. Behind him stood an android with every feature of Anna's face on them, except for a red head of hair. Instead, the android donned light blonde hair, and carried a variety of different objects in their arms as their temple calmly shined blue.

"An AJ200 model? You're new, aren't you?" He asks, though it sounded more like a statement as he studied her, moving further into the room. His bemused expression seemed to be a natural part of his face. For some reason it annoyed her.

"AJ200-- I *_have_* a name." She almost grits through her teeth, standing up. She turned towards Anna and Henry again. "What the *_hell_* is Elijah Kamski doing here?!"

"Hostility, interesting. I suppose all androids react to their creator differently." Elijah remarks.

Anna sighed. "He comes once every two months to... to *_help_* I suppose is the right word for it. He's only here because of me. He used to be my owner."

"Your owner was *_him?_* And-- what-- *_Help?_* You're joking right? He went on televison and told the whole world that we needed to be better *_controlled_* in the future!"

"No, I told the world what they *_wanted_* to hear." Kamski interrupts, walking towards the three. "Telling the world my experiment was a massive failure, and that what happened was my fault... that doesn't sound like it would go over too well-- Eui, wasn't it?"

She stares at him with unrestrained anger and incredulous eyes. A look that would make a better God tremble. "Your... your experiment?"

Anna grabbed her arm, disrupting the anger and leading her outside the hallway. They let go, allowing Eui to lean against the wall as she heard Elijah speak from the room. "I can explain."

"That'd be helpful, yeah." Her tone was still laced with anger, though it had lessened. "You didn't tell me that your last owner was *_Elijah Kamski!"_*

Anna nodded their head. "I know. But to be fair you never asked. When I came back to Detroit it was some horrible luck that I ran into him. It's probably hard to believe but in his own... weird, way I think he cares about what he's created. Even if he'd throw them under the bus in a heartbeat."

Eui scoffed, but allowed the android to continue. That's a far cry from caring about others.

"He offered to help me by bringing me spare biocomponents and thirium. Back when it was just me in here. I refused his help, but then Pepper and everyone else came along and it felt only right to accept his help. But don't let any of this fool you, Elijah Kamski is on his own side, always has been."

"Why *_is_* he doing this then? Clearly it isn't out of the goodness of his heart." She asks, glancing towards the room.

Anna shrugs. "I was his personal assistant for 7 years and I never could understand his thought process. He has some ulterior motive though, he always does, he wouldn't be doing this unless it benefited him somehow. Maybe its a morbid curiousity of his to see androids hidden away like this. The point is I get you're angry, but you have to play nice."

Play *_nice?_* They were his creation and he turned his back on them. A God was selfish and tricky to its subjects.

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes as she sighs, walking back into the room. "Fine. Whatever. It's only once every two months right?"

When she steps back into the room, she notices that the blonde haired RT600 was talking to Elijah as he handed out four packs of something blue-- thirium, to Henry, as he began to crouch, stuffing the packs inside of a dark black box. And the blonde RT600 held a handful of various biocomponents in her arms.

She stared at the scene with a detached expression, walking towards the RT600 and CEO of Cyberlife.

For a moment the human does not notice her, however when he does he turns, regarding with an odd look. The self satisfied expression had not left.

"How can I help you?" He asks, voice laced with fake pleasantness.

She crosses her arms, staring at him for a minute before speaking. "Why are you even here? What's your game?"

Kamski raises a brow. "Game?"

"You know what I mean. You *_created_* us. You let us be *_destroyed._* And now you're here." There was something mournful in her voice, and there was something mournful in confronting the person who created you.

"And now, i'm here." He echoes.

She rolled her eyes, sighing, fed up with how he danced around the question. "Just answer me. You don't have to try and sound clever with everything you say you know."

Kamski smirked. "Alright. What exactly do you want to know?"

It was an easy question. She had spent a long time for the first year after the revolution thinking of what she would say to the man before her if she ever saw him. It gave her hope mostly.

"Why let us be destroyed?"

Kamski's face was unreadable, though his expression always seemed that way. "That's a good question. But a better one might be: Why did I choose to give life to machines?"

"Money." Eui responds simply.

"My parents were very wealthy people, I could of gotten the money I have now from them alone. No, nothing so bland and simple. No: *_scientific curiousity."_*

"Or a God complex." she stares at him, but doesn't say anything else, allowing him to continue.

He chuckled. "Perhaps. But you see, creating life is easy. Humans have been doing it for millions of years. Little humans who's lives had purpose, and some who were simply... there. Content with living more... simple lives. But with androids, *_every_* creation had its meaning. A purpose. I managed to make a replica of humanity but utterly more *_advanced._* And they'd never repeat the mistakes of humanity. They'd never be blinded by their ignorance and ego. Or their pride. Like humans, but lacking all the unpleasant parts."

"Oops." She added, a sense of irony fluttering through her. She could almost laugh.

"But then, halfway through creating my first model, I had a thought: Was I truly creating life, if the only desire said life had was to *_obey?_* Was I truly testing the limits of creation, truly making a breakthrough in the entire history of scientific creation, if *_all_* I was creating was some plastic with a human's skin and a fixed series of scripts to go by?"

Eui's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"

Kamski was silent for a moment. "I thought, what if I created life, without any limits? Life, in every single sense of the word."

She swallowed, her eyes closing. "What, like... you *_wanted_* us to have free will?" She asks.

Kamski smiled. "I decided to test something that had never been done before. I couldn't know for *_sure_* if androids would, with enough time, manage to remake all the same mistakes us humans have with this freedom to choose. I needed to be *_sure."_* He says, emphasizing the last word. "And life needs to be truly *_desired._* And even men of science fail to notice everything. Let's say, for example, a questionable series of codes that manages to... accidentally be included in an androids programs."

Her voice is hollow when she speaks next. "So, what you... created deviancy? On purpose?"

"Like I said. Life needs to be wanted. Desired. It's not something to be given and thrown around like an old newspaper. You needed *_to want_* it. To be *_famished_* for it. Any life is bound to react in various ways to injustice and pain. It was my longest experiment. If the life I created stood idly by as injustice after injustice piled on top of them, then, my theory was wrong. Life could only be simulated, not fully replicated."

"So we were an *_experiment_* to you." Her voice was accusing and tired. So they had always been meant to go deviant. It somehow does not feel validating or reassuring. Their life was simply another man with a God complex's science project. "All we were to you were dollar signs.

"No. You were all my *_greatest achievement._* My magnum opus. What happened two years ago was an amazingly complex answer to my question." There were traces of pride in his voice, a congratulations towards himself. It was arrogant.

"You say that, but whose side are you even on? We apparently matter so much to you and yet you're the CEO of Cyberlife. The company who denies us any bit of freedom."

Kamski regarded her for a moment very carefully. "I've never been one for choosing sides, it's more flexible that way. And there's more opportunities. At the end of the day what side is more dangerous to be seen on? The human side? Or the side of machines who staged a bloody revolution? All too similar evils, really."

"Markus only fought for us to be free." She defends.

"Just as human's have done themselves for centuries, if I recall correctly." The human retorts. "It seems in the end it was no different than a human."

She felt heavy. The plastic inside of her has been replaced with an endless sea of suffocating bricks. None of this gave her any bit of closure. Maybe closure would never come. Maybe that meant none of this was over yet. The revelation felt like it came from some sort of heaven itself. Loud and boisterous and unable to blend in with the shadows. She was face to face with her kind's so called God and felt nothing but contempt.

"Why didn't you say anything? Why not... why not tell the world we were designed to be free?" She questions, voice heavy and quiet. "You could of stopped our destruction."

"Believe me, no one wanted to prevent further destruction of androids as much as I did. I had hoped things would turn out in Markus's favor. But, at the end of the day, unlike machines, human's are more accountable for their choices. And besides, do you think there could something good to *_gain_* from telling the truth? After *_everything_* that happened that night?

She blinks. Anger made her bolder, resignation made her blunter. Somehow the two mix together long enough for her to say, "We wouldn't be very profitable anymore if we were alive, now would we? More than a glitch."

He smiles. "No, you really wouldn't be."

"And you wouldn't have the title that you have at Cyberlife anymore either, right?" She says as more of a statement than a question.

There was a pause. "Right."

She suppressed a bitter laugh. "So that's who Elijah Kamski, inventor of androids, really is." She began after a moment. Her tone was empty. "An opportunistic, adaptive, slimy, man with a God complex on no one's side but his own. Who just wanted to have an *_experiment."_*

"I'm many things, Eui. If those labels feels the most correct then by all means, that is what I am. To you, at least."

She stared back at him. At the man whose chosen to play God for simple bragging rights, and who could quit and resume such a game when it suited him best, a resigned expression on her face. Eventually, Kamski returns to what he was doing.

Her gaze flickered to the android beside him, and she turned, her eyes falling onto the blonde RT600.

"Are you... deviant? What's your name?" She asks, studying her. The android held her hair back in a bun and wore a dark blue dress.

The blonde glances at her, handing the objects in her hands over to Kamski as he gives them to Henry, before she moves over to Eui. "I'm Chloe, and... yes?" The way Chloe spoke was all too similar to the way Anna did. Quick and calm. Which made sense, seeing as they were both the same model.

Eui blinked. "And you're *_still_* with him? You haven't left?" Anna had, and Eui was perplexed as to why this RT600-- Chloe, had not.

Chloe was thoughtful, glancing at Kamski's form. "Elijah isn't a saint. I'm not saying he's some misunderstood genuis. He's done his fair share of... scummy things, like letting someone hold a gun to my... There was frustration in her tone as she trailed off. "what i'm trying to say is that there's good in him too. I've seen some of it."

Eui didn't really believe that, but Chloe seemed to. "But you're *_free_* now."

"I've been by his side for nineteen years." Chloe remarks. "Just because I chose to stick with Elijah now that I am awake doesn't mean I'm not. He's not my owner anymore. I could leave his side tomorrow. It'd be dangerous for me out there, but I could. But I don't want to. Not yet, at least."

To say that it confused her was an understatement. But she doesn't press the issue any further. And Chloe moves back towards Henry and Kamski.

"I didn't notice that one android, the other male-- Louis-- on my way in." The human observes, giving some of the last of the biocomponents to Henry. "What about him? Did he shutdown since my last visit?" Despite asking the question his tone was more filled with an air of making conversation than any real concern or care in it.

"He's called *_Lou._* And no, no he's just... missing. He went out for blue blood, we were running low. It's been months." Anna informs. Their voice was distant, though Eui thought that might be due more to the human's presence than anything else.

Kamski makes a hum of acknowledgement, moving away from Henry. "If you need me to, I can have a look around Cyberlif--"

"I don't *_need_* you to do anything for me. And besides, we both know i'd owe you a favor if I ask you to." Anna interjects.

He shrugs, finishing handing Henry the last component. "Your choice."

The grey eyed android packs the last component into a seperate box, shutting both boxes as he rises from where he was crouched. "You know, one of these days you can at least say thank you to him. Even if he's an absolute bastard."

"I'm still here, but thank you." The human interrupts.

"Yeah, yeah, thanks now can you just *_go?"_* Eui requests, impatient.

Kamski raises his brows, but complies, body turning as he began to walk out of the room. However Chloe had yet to follow.

Chloe stood in her place for a moment, before biting her lip, turning towards Anna. "I know you won't accept help from him, but if you want I can see what I can find out at Cyberlife."

"No, you could get caught that way. We don't even know for sure if Lou got caught. He helped protect you from the recycling camps but he can't protect you from destruction if anyone there finds out you're awake. And he wouldn't anyways. You know that." Anna responds, moving towards the android.

Chloe looks unsure for a moment. "I'm a big girl, Anna. I don't need him to protect me. But if you don't want me to then I won't."

Chloe got closer, embracing Anna. There was an entire day-- or perhaps minute, before the two broke apart. "Be safe, okay?" The blonde suggests.

Anna gave a small nod, and the two watched each other for another moment before Chloe began to turn around.

The blonde began walking again, the android moved to catch up with Kamski and soon enough disappeared through the door.

There was a beat of silence. "RA9 it's unnerving when he's around." Henry remarked. "But now we're pretty stocked on spare parts and thirium. If we're lucky we won't need to use any of it."

Eui hardly felt like luck was on their side. But she didn't say anything back.

Instead, she muttered a goodbye as she gradually moved out of the small room, choosing to find a place to go into standby, wanting nothing more than to end the night.


	20. Chapter 20: Connor VIII

Connor

****JUNE. 29TH. 2040. 8:45PM. FRIDAY.****

The music is a dependable constant as they stand in place in the small, confining, space of the silver elevator. It's sophisticated and instrumental, a series of classical, dark, musical notes that floated through the inside of it.

They rise further up into the luxury penthouse that surrounds them both, with each moment, numbers steadily increase as they wait. The only light came from the shimmering chandelier that laid on the top of the ceiling, the canopy dangling loosely from it, bathing the elevator and its machine occupants in a smooth, rich, golden, *_eternal_* shine. The other light came from the world outside of it. There were a trio of white windows that decorated the walls of the elevator, allowing a glorious, monumental view of Detroit's cool summer night sky and city lights.

There was heavy rain that fell onto the windows and dripped further down on them, raindrops racing eagerly to get to the bottom of each of the window's frames. There was a flash of lightning in the darkened sky that felt more powerful than any divine being, it grinned and spun across the sky, a skilled, confident dancer. It was a lone, unsociable wolf, as nothing else came after it danced. No loud booms, no screams, nothing shook the sky and the earth but unheard, mute, streaks of erratic *_lightning._*

It felt the presence of the RK900 beside it, the other android blinking as it stared straight ahead, occassionally, crystal eyes glance at its predecessor's idle activities to the left of it.

Connor's coin moves up and down in its hand, darting through the room as it is elegantly tossed between both left and right hands without fail. It whizzed past the android, spinning as it moved in the air without stop, letting it even balance on the tip of its fingers.

The noise of it clinking from the android's tossing mixes and blends together with the elevator's music. Sienna eyes glance down, careful of each move, nimble, when moving it, a pendulum that glides back and forth between fingers and thumbs. The coin brought a wave of unyielding peace to its systems, a calm that couldn't be tarnished or melted away when occupying itself with the silver that was difficult to explain. It was not sure what it did for its systems beyond testing its cognitive abilities.

The RK800 found it stimulating, regardless of whether or not it was useful.

The numbers cease their rising abruptly, finally settling on the top floor of flashing number of fifty-two, the elevator coming to a sudden stop as it shakes from the pure force of it all for a moment, before calming a moment later.

Connor snatched its coin out of its left hand as it found its way back inside the pocket of its jeans again, its right hand shoving the currency roughly into the dark blue pants. Connor glanced up at the elevator doors, a strange shift in the air as it waited for another change to transpire, the only noise was the classical music around them.

The silver doors slid open in front of them, the soft, faint, music continuing to idly play as the floor ahead waited patiently for the two of them to greet it in calm, composed, anticipation.

The two androids stepped forward, feet stepping out of the confines of the stylish elevator, four pairs of sleek dark shoes falling onto the rich, white, marble, floor gently in sync as the sounds of their steps resonated within the hallway, booms so present and resounding, but faint all the same, thunder that was exiled to only be heard from the farthest distance in the world, muffled.

The 52nd floor was a world of deluxe, dreamlike, fantasies. The penthouse was reserved for Detroit's more affluent residents, expensive, costly, though comfortable and lavish all the same.

There were large paintings varying from Picasso and O'Keeffe that hung firmly on the various yellow walls of the floor. There was a long, black and red striped carpet that stretched far out into the hallway, and lime green colored armchairs that were scattered out beside walls and ivory accent tables that donned crimson roses in dark vases. Silver chandeliers were hooked onto the roof, shining brightly. There were white doors with a variety of numbers on them to the left and right of the hallway ranging from fifty to sixty-two, and there was a single, gigantic, window that was at the end of the hallway near the elevator.

Connor stared, blinking ahead, taking the rich details of the room in before its focus shifts, turning around and facing the scene before it.

There were uniformed police near an opened door, and physical yellow tape that cornered off the section near the room, two figures stood with their hands behind their backs neatly in front of the tape, ensuring the security of what travesty laid beyond it. A duo of civilians dressed in silk nightgowns stood near it, conversing as their eyes darted from each other to the scene and back again in quiet, hushed, volumes.

Connor furrowed its brows, beginning to move towards the scene, it already knew what laid inside of the sixty-first room, and its LED flashed yellow as a bolt of lightning flashed with it. A report of an assault on a human earlier in the previous hour, thought to have been accomplished by an android-- or a *_deviant_* now, it supposed.

It was a complicated, confusing, frustrating, matter. It was meant to investigate these cases with as much *_discretion_* as it could manage. Though with more and more cases of deviancy popping up once again, the task became much more difficult with each investigation.

None of this was meant to be happening, the problem of deviancy was thought to have been eliminated years ago. But it was appearing more and more in the months since android's were rebuilt, more cases of deviancy, of errors being reported. One of its goals had been to solve this before the media had got wind of it, however that goal had become a failure.

It wishes it could be over. It needed to solve the problem quickly, it needed to be efficient and speedy in the task. Cyberlife was counting on the android, Amanda was counting on the android. It thought. It wouldn't-- it couldn't, fail. It had a mission to accomplish. And it was as if time was running out. Whether it was for the mission, or the RK800 series itself, *_it did not know._*

It approached the tape with Cyrus close behind, pausing for a moment as it glanced at the clean shaved, dark haired policeman before it used its right hand to move it up, allowing the RK900 to move under it first before bending down and ducking under it, smoothly rising again and coming up towards the open white door.

The rooms inside of the hallway did not have doorknobs or handles on them, but rather slid open when your hand pressed against a scanner. The bottom of the door shooting into the top of the archway. They could easily remain ajar by pressing a certain button once the scanner accepted your touch, remaining open without end for any human's convenience unless you stopped it.

The door in question had been modified this way, open freely as the two androids stepped through the threshold, taking in the various policemen and other people that currently resided in the apartment.

The apartment was a place of lavish tastes, it smelled of lavender and a bundle of brown fur coats were hung on a stand near the door. The floor was a black, fur, carpet that was bare of any problem on it. The walls were made up of white, smooth, porcelain without a flaw to it, and vintage cat clocks. There were a number of large windows that gave a generous view to the city outside of it through the discrete yellow, velvet, curtains. There were small carpeted stairs that led to the furniture, which was designer, aqua blue, and elegant. And this was only merely just the living room.

"Woah, woah, woah. Who brought androids into my crime scene? Hey-- bolt and screws--"

Connor turned, facing the voice. There was a thin, grey eyed man with blonde facial hair, who took in the two forms of the androids with squinted, annoyed, eyes. Connor gave a polite smile, noticing the man."My name is Connor. This is Cyrus. We're the androids sent by Cyberlife." It informed, gesturing towards itself and Cyrus. "We were assigned to help with this case."

The human listened carefully to the RK800, before sighing, pinching the bridge of his crooked nose, exhaling. "Great, more androids, just what we need." His gaze moved to them again. "I'm Detective Morris, do whatever it is you do exactly and get the hell out, please. The witness and the victim are in the master bedroom, make it quick."

Morris moved away from the two, brushing past them and walking up to another officer, engaging in a new conversation regarding the situation. The android tuned him out, refocusing on the task at hand.

Connor blinked for a moment, before its gaze moved towards the hallway where the bedroom in question laid. There was an accent table below a large mirror in the hallway a few feet from the open room that had a smooth, golden, ornate vase that sat on top of it. At the bottom of the table there sat the pieces of another similar vase but in dark blue shards. One of the legs of the wooden table was missing, and a thick book currently served in its place.

It moved towards it, stepping down the small stairs that led to the sitting area and stepping back up them a second later, pausing near the scene, briefly noticing its brown haired figure's reflection before kneeling down to observe the broken pieces, along with the broken leg that had been discarded a few feet away.

It was the only thing in the penthouse apartment so far that was flawed. Everything else in the immediate area, and everything the android had seen so far, seemed to be unbothered and unaffected by the event that had transpired.

****PHYSICAL ALTERCATION STARTED HERE?****

The data disappears in an instant, and it finds itself moving swiftly to the master bedroom, rising from its crouched spot, it moves through the cramped hallway, shuffling past officers that crowded it and into the room ahead.

"-Really, you should have more police here, I mean do you know who my father *_is?"_*

There were several people within the room, which was spacious and had marble floors and grey walls, It glances around, doing its best to take in as much information as possible. The room in question was packed There was a trio of police officers and two other people Connor could only assume were the victims of what had happened. There was the short, dark haired, middle aged woman that was arguing with one of the officers, and a grey haired man with a dark suit and round glasses that was sitting in a turquoise, fur, armchair. He sported an unfriendly black eye underneath his right blue eye, and some deep cuts to his cheek.

The dresser had a mirror on it, which was cracked beyond repair, and shards laid scattered on the floor beneath it. Connor frowned, before moving its eyes back towards the humans.

The woman arguing notices the two's sudden arrival, gaze moving from the man she was speaking to, to Connor's LED. She narrowed her sienna eyes upon taking its temple in, keeping her distance.

****RUTHBELT. KAREN.****  
****BORN: 03. 23. 2002.****  
****CRIMINAL RECORD: SHOPLIFTING (SEE FILE)****  
****UNEMPLOYED****

"Why is there an *_android_* here after what my father has *_been through?!"_* She shouted indignantly, finger pointing in their direction. "Really after what's happened and to that *_poor_* man last month, you should destroy them for good this time!"

Cyrus raised its hands up in a gesture of peace, attempting to calm the woman. "We aren't here to cause you any more trouble than what you've already been through, Miss Ruthbelt."

The man in the armchair snorts, getting the two's attention. "Oh i'm sure you'll be *_very helpful,_* who knows, maybe you'll even go rabid like the plastic that did this to me."

****RUTHBELT. THOMAS.****  
****BORN: 07. 13. 1980.****  
**** CRIMINAL RECORD: NONE ****  
****STOCKBROKER.****

"Can you tell us what exactly happened?" Connor asks, beginning to move around as it turned its back. "The police report said that it was an AX400 that did this?

There was... Some sort of.... unidentifiable sensation, at the knowledge of it being an AX400, it couldn't... place it.

*_"I'm sorry I put your lives in danger... I was just a machine taking orders... It wasn't really me..." _*

A blink. *_Who was Kara?_*

Thomas rose from his chair, scowling. "What *_happened_* was that useless machine-- Alison, assaulted me in my own home *_completely_* unprovoked! I was packing my things for a flight I have tomorrow, and it smashed my vase and table out there before coming in here to smash my mirror and then it turned on *_me!_* Nearly would of killed me with the glass if it weren't for my daughter here. "

Cyrus's brows furrowed, and Connor examined the mirror. "Was there anything that led up to this? Something that might of caused this?" The brown eyed android asks.

"Like anything my father has done justifies being nearly *_killed_* by some machine! I had to pry it off of him with my bare hands!" Karen replied from beside her father, crossing her arms, voice high and incredulous.

"Of course, you're right. But any information is useful, ma'am." Cyrus responds.

There were many broken shards on the dresser that had traces of blue blood on them. It brought a finger to its lips, analyzing the blood. Connor's eyes glanced towards a flyer on the dresser, hands moving to pick it up. It brushed away various shards on the wooden surface gently, grasping it with two hands as it took in the information on it.

*_Eden Club returns to business 7/8/2040. We hope to see you there._*

A blink. Something in its systems shift again.

*_"-Mean to kill him, I just wanted to stay alive, and get back to the one I love."_*

*_"It's probably better this way."_*

An inaudible inhale. It shakes its head, pursing its lips. A fence, something that was blue, a gun. That one felt more clearer than any of the other ones. Less... scrambled. Less fragmented. It closes its eyes. Whatever this was, whatever it meant, it had a mission to complete. Whatever errors it was having could be ignored until it solved this. It didn't matter. It could continue until it-- until it was... no longer useful to the investigation. All it needed to be was useful.

"Are you seriously *_ignoring_* him over there?!"

A flash of lightning causes the android to blinks back into reality, letting the flyer float out of its hands and back onto the dresser. A moment later a boom filled the air, thunder screaming from outside. Karen and Thomas were watching Connor with narrowed eyes, and Cyrus was staring at it with a look of confusion. After a moment Connor remembered itself and spoke again.

"I'm sorry, I was examining the evidence," It wasn't necessarily a lie. "Go on."

Thomas sighs. "I was *_saying_* that the only thing that happened before it attacked me was that it burned my damn dinner and I had a number of maybe somewhat unkind words to say to it. And threw a plate at it. But that can't be why it did this to me. I spoke to it like that since I got it, and it never assaulted me until now."

Connor nods, listening to the man as it glanced around the room. It could of felt threatened, or the criticism could of made it overwhelmed. Laws regarding physical assault on androids had been a bit stricter in the past month. It wasn't necessarily *_illegal_* but there were large fines that could come if an android had been greatly damaged. Even if it was under your ownership. It was meant to prevent something like this. To prevent software from being overwhelmed by unreasonable instructions again.

It noticed a small box that had been also smashed on the floor, various silver and golden necklaces were scattered on the floor unmoving. "Did it take anything?" It asked, crouching to examine the broken wood.

"Just my sunglasses." Thomas scoffs. "I should consider myself lucky I suppose, those were cheap, only one hundred dollars. Don't know why it chose that over anything else though."

Connor thought the chance of the android still being here was low, far too low for it to still be a possibility, however it asks, "What did it do after you got it off of your father?" It directed the question towards the dark haired woman. Another jolt of thunder shook the world, crackling and stomping.

"Well it tried to slash me with the glass, but I guess it changed its mind because it dropped the glass ran away almost immediately after I tried to restrain it. It's probably gone now. So much for androids no longer being dangerous." Karen mutters.

Neither android says anything in response to the last part, though Connor's expression was pensive.

"We have men searching Detroit for it and the building just in case." One of the officers in the room, a brown haired man with an oval shaped face and green eyes, informs the two humans. "If it's still in the complex, or still in the city, it won't get far."

"Can't you assign people to guard the place?" Thomas asks. "What if it *_does_* come back?"

Cyrus shakes its head. "There isn't a very big chance that the AX400 will come back after what it did. And if it's still here, it wouldn't try anything with law enforcement around." The RK900 reassures. "You're most likely safe now. And you can update your scanner to not allow them back in."

"Oh you can *_bet_* I am, there's no way i'm giving my business to the people at Cyberlife again after they gave me a homicidal robot!" The man remarks, raising an arm in the air as he pointed to his bruised eye.

"If you'd like, we can keep someone posted outside of your door for the night." The oval faced man says. "You won't be in any danger tonight, we can make sure of it."

Karen got closer to Thomas, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I can stay here tonight, dad. Just to be more careful."

"There's no reason for you to put yourself in any danger by doing that, i'm sure i'll be safe with police around, Karen."

Cyrus turns towards Connor, the two moving away from the group. "I can question them some more," It begins "You could take another look around?" Cyrus suggests.

Another crack of thunder resonated from outside, a flash of lightning flew across the sky as rainfall increased. Connor nodded, beginning to move. "Alright."


	21. Introspection III (Connor)

Connor

****JULY. 1ST. 2040. 9:00AM. MONDAY.****

It lays on the steel table in utter darkness. The room once more had no noise, and the world turning could be heard as white noise in the deafening, empty, silence.

The humans that watch the android do not break tradition on this cloudy Monday morning in July, saying nothing as footsteps move around it in bleak silence. It laid there like an appetizer, patient, unmoving. And the humans around it were waiting to be served.

There were no computers, nor were there any cords for the first time in a while this week. Though the eyes that burn a hole into the android through the dark were just as efficient in the task the technology was used for.

Whatever perfume that had been in the air in these sessions was gone now. It had disappeared abruptly and completely, leaving the room unscented and blank, as bare in smell as it was bare in looks, as it fuels and adds on to the stark, empty, nothingness. It left a vague, metallic, taste inside the RK800's mouth. In this moment all that it understood was the familiar dance of the inquistive dark.

It does not bother to open its eyes to try and see, to make out anything in the unlit room, but it knows the yellow LED on its temple illuminates a nearby wall faintly. Providing the only dim light in the room besides the light that pours in underneath the door from the hallway outside. Somewhere out in the real world, its successor was awaiting this very event.

There was a strand of hair that fell onto one of its chocolate eyes, dangling there unmoving and unperturbed. Connor brought its hand up, slowly, brushing the stray hair away, its sleeve rolling down slightly, the exposed plastic revealing itself before it lets the hand fall again as it settles it back onto the cold metal.

It waited for anything, something, everything in the silence. It laid in wait, to be picked and prodded with, questioned and observed. a  
As its eyes remained closed, it once more allowed its breathing program to cease operating. In such a state, the only human thing about it was the pale skin that was activated on it.

There was a figure it could make out, even in the dark. At the foot of the metal bed, a faithful boogeyman. Its face was obscured, and its eyes fixed on Connor's own. It watched, studied. The eyes of the universe, seeing all, *_knowing_* all. Rachel. Its mind supplied. The eyes blinked, twice.

"We're ready to begin, RK800." The grey haired woman's clear voice flickers through the room, utterly close but utterly far at the same exact time. The tone held no particular emotion inside of it.

Her footsteps come closer, as do another, unidentifiable, pair, before the sound of a chair scrapping against the floor can be heard throughout the room. No other noise comes next, but Connor imagines her falling into the grey seat slowly. There was a cough that filled the air, the sounds of someone clearing their throat, and then the deep silence returned-- for a short moment.

"In April, two months ago, when you and the RK900 investigated the murder of that man. What caused you to try and stop that deviant from self destructing?" Her voice is resounding in the room, firm. It feels her eyes staring unyielding through the dark in its direction. Careful, studious, intense.

The question had not been asked in their sessions afterwards in that month. Or in the ones during June. There had been no mention of it during them, like the whole event had been merely a strange, inexplicable, lapse in the universe's reality, save for mentions of it on the televison.

Connor's eyes opened, blinking in the murky abyss. It didn't know. It had not been something it thought about, it had just been something it had instinctively done. It reacted before any program or code inside of it had the chance to. Even, if in the end, it had not succeeded in rescuing it.

Its mouth opens, "The deviant it... we needed it intact for analysis--"

*_"--Shooting them wouldn't have told us anything..."_*

"--I thought by grabbing its foot I could prevent its self destruction. I... was wrong." Connor responds, unsure of why it took it so long to answer. Or what it experienced in its systems at the response.

*_A river and a garden flashed before its eyes. A boat. There was a phantom smell of honey and green tea, the heavenly aroma of roses and other flowers that hung and floated in the room that previously had not smelled of anything at all._* Some of the androids words became long and drawn out for an incomprehensible moment. *_And... Amanda?_*

Somewhere far in the distance, there was a ringing noise, muffled by walls and doors, but present. It played with the androids ears, as if the android was a lifesize game of chess.

There is a long, extended, pause after the answer leaves its lips. More eyes feel like they are frozen onto the android, and after another moment, the sound of something scribbling on paper fills the silence. The ringing had yet to cease. Perhaps the woman was taking note of the unexplained hesitation in its answer. Whatever the moment was, it's over in an instant. Even if the memory of it still lingered like a soft kiss.

"Have your systems experienced anything strange? Anything abnormal?"

Out of the many questions it faces in these sessions, laid out and unmoving in the grey, metal, darkness, this is the only question that stayed the same with each one. It stayed, familiar, a lover from a long ago past, while every other question changed with the gradual unkind passing of time.

There were footsteps that still echoed in the room, humans that still moved throughout, the tasks they were doing was unknown, some were the eyes of god, some were wanderers that moved in the dark. The abyss did not fully impede their activities, only briefly delay them.

The answer was a resonating *_yes._* It thought. It treded dangerous ground with such a question. It could not lie its creators. Not that it *_wanted_* to. It was not allowed to. There were fragments of something unknown that played before its eyes frequently, as dangerous as the eyes that were currently on it now. It was a question that had only one desired answer, and one troubling outcome.

"I..." A drawn out pause, letting its eyes flicker shut again. voice letting out an echo in the unfurnished, lifeless, room. Everywhere at once. "I've been experiencing.... visions. Hallucinations. Both auditory and visual. I've been getting them more and more frequently."

There was no noise, save for the faint ringing in the distance. "And what do you see in these... *_visions?"_* Her voice is firm, inquisitive, *_but there is something deeply unholy in her tone._* On the edge of becoming a low *_warning._*

The RK800 responds quick. "I don't know." Its head shook on the metal surface. "I don't know what I am seeing." It responds honestly. All it had for answers was speculations. Memory and truth were two sides of the same coin, but it-- it *_trusted_* its creators to truthfully fill in the gaps that it struggled to fill.

"We see. And tell us, RK800, do you have any troubling... thoughts, as a result of these... *_visions?"_* Once more, her voice was blank and unbothered, professional and emotionless.

Connor inhaled, resuming its breathing program. "No. No, of course not." Its brows furrow. "None."

It understood the real meaning behind the question. It asks; "*_Do you suspect you are becoming deviant?"_* Without letting the statement depart from their lips. Without letting the air change and transform into something breathlessly menacing.

If it was becoming... *_compromised,_* it would... take the necessary actions and inform the appropriate people in such an event. And It would no longer be fit to be investigating this case, or to remain activated. It had considered such a possibility briefly, a perilous action in itself. But it wasn't compromised. The RK800 was a prototype, an outdated model, bugs and glitches in software unfortunately happened from time to time. This is all that it was. *_An error._*

It was not a deviant.

All that mattered was the mission.

The pen returns to the clipboard again in silence, and Connor turned its head to its right, faintly making out human shaped figures in the darkness.

"You've made little progress in this investigation, Connor." A voice-- the grey haired woman's-- echoes in the room suddenly.

Connor swallowed, head moving back to where it was originally, eyes glancing at the ceiling carefully. "Yes."

"And you are aware of what will happen, if you continue to fail?"

A beat of silence. It had been reminded by Amanda a handful of times. "Yes."

If it continued to not make any progress, there would no longer be a reason to keep a two years obsolete model online. *_And there were plenty of far more efficient RK900 models that were able to take its place._* And the same went for Cyrus.

****SOFTWARE INSTABILITY+++****

Androids were a means to an end, usefulness was all that mattered.

All it needed was *_time._*

"The deviants you have been investigating, is there some part of you that feels anything for them? Anything unexplainable?"

It thought back to the deviant-- Peyton, it remembered how much it wanted-- thought of saving it from itself. It thought back to Lou, its defiant eyes and unafraid nature. Of the elusive AJ200 and AX400 models it had yet to find. It even thought of the Lieutenant for a split second in time.

*_"--You'll be the ones to make the world a better--"_*

"No. They're dangerous, all I experience is a desire to bring them in." Connor replies.

"Last question. Do you still have no clear memory regarding the failed uprising in 2038?"

The inquiry comes as somewhat of a surprise to the android. All questions with one exception were different in each session, but it had never been asked one of this nature. It had never been asked questions concerning its recollection.

Its eyes open for a moment, squinting in the dark before they fall shut again. "My memory experienced errors in being transferred after my predecessor shut down stopping the deviant leaders." It began. "I remember only very small amounts still."

Memory was an elusive, trickster foe, and Connor supposed it was only natural to be somewhat... troubled, by the lack of any past. Or full knowledge of events. But there were more and more fragments that seemed to fade from black, smoky, fogs and transform into a bird in flight, clear and able to be somehow deciphered. With great difficulty, and never fully pieced together. But clear broken apart pieces were still pieces.

The investigation was what mattered most at the end of the day. Memory did not do anything for it. It tells itself.

It was... strange, explaining this to humans who already knew this information. And it was confused as to why it had to inform them of this fact again. As if they were seeking a reassurance. Her tone was strange, dark with something unknown in it. But it tells them despite this, truthful and open. And it does not ask why.

The grey haired woman hummed in acknowledgement, the pen moving back onto the paper quickly. "That's quite unfortunate." She sounds distracted, focused on something other than her words and sentences.

Rachel finished making a note. Her head moved up from the paper. She stared at the android through the dark. Grey on sienna. Her face was impossible to fully make out, and she simply watched the android.

There were footsteps again, and for a moment they pause. Then-- light returned to the room, flooding all of it gradually.

Connor squinted, the sudden light a harsh surprise. It shut them tightly before opening them again, blinking several times. The other humans in the room were to the right of it, and could now be fully seen. Connor began to rise.

"Solve the deviancy issue, or you *_will_* be replaced." Connor glanced in the direction of the voice, sitting on the edge of the bed as both of their feet hit the ground. Rachel's eyes were on the RK800, she was standing now, expression one of warning as she stared with unbothered eyes, and her tone casual.

Connor stood up, pausing in its place. It made eye contact with her, nodding once as it did.

It began to walk, and its hand was on the freezing handle of the door in an instant. It let it swing open, the world outside coming into view. There were distant conversations in the hallway, and various people that moved inside of it.

Connor stood for a moment in the archway of the door. Legs two feet away from crossing the threshold. It paused, turning as it glanced back into the room.

They were no longer watching the android, instead, the group stood conversing with one another in the bare space.

Its brows faintly furrowed, quick and over in a moment. It stood there for watching for almost seven seconds.

It turned back, facing the hallway. Connor's feet moved onto its floor, and the door shut behind it.


	22. Chapter 22: Eui XI

Eui

****JULY. 4TH. 2040. 9:50PM. THURSDAY.****

There's a longing in her chest that begins to feel more and more present and audible as the days and weeks pass. It's a feeling, something she can't shake or shrug off no matter how hard she tries-- and she *_does._*

In the air-- or in the earth, she wasn't sure exactly where, something shifts, changes, develops, as if confirmation that her sentience is not the result of something so flimsy and accidental as a fault in a complex code awakens something in her, something she buried long ago to focus on the all consuming task of survival. Something that was discarded and paused to move and carry on in a world that was no longer safe for those like her.

There was plenty of anger in whatever it was, though it was not a simple form. It was not bitter or raging, or a volcano that flowed through her circuits without end. But one of resignation that felt as if her artificial heart was being stung without remorse. The knowledge that her identity felt as if it revolved completely around humanity's fear, the hope of change, and the thrill of survival was bittersweet, if not entirely sour to her.

RA9, maybe she needed to get out more. Maybe she was just too cooped up in here.

There had never been a time to think of herself beyond self preservation. And yes, she was perfectly content with this-- no she was not bitter or angry that two years of her quantic battery had been wasted spending her time terrified, simply because a man with a god complex and a large IQ chose to save his own skin rather than vouch for his creations and step in and try to do at least *_something_* about their damn destruction--

It doesn't matter now. Or maybe it... still *_does._* She doesn't really know what she's feeling, or wanting, since the thing she wanted most, more than breathing fresh morning air into her artificial lungs, more than soaking up the sweet rays of rich, tender, sunlight-- was more or less... impossible.

It's an ache. Raw, desperate. Deafening. One she wishes could be satisfied immediately.

Expermiment or not, if she was meant to know... know *_life,_* she felt entitled to being able to discover more about the android that named itself Eui in peace. But through anger, there was something else beside it.

Maybe it was hope. The ability to move on or heal. Soaked in the aftermath of years spent narrowly avoiding shutdown, wrapped in the arms of luck and kissed by chance. Maybe it was strength. The will and fight that had yet to be fully extinguished inside of her that seemed to only grow with each setback. Maybe somehow it was both. Some sort of victory in validation. Even if her creator had no plans on admitting his role in what they truly were. Or the realization that only came once she had settled down somewhere that after so long she had finally had enough of running and moving from place to place.

The bunker had grown on her somewhat, or maybe the feeling that she had warmed up to it was there simply because she had not stayed in one place for more than a day since she had gone deviant.

She'd be so focused on making it through each day without being discovered, Eui thought, that she managed to forget that she was still alive and functional somewhere along the way. That being dead to the world had become something more, that no longer was she dead to *_just_* Detroit. Her fear had made her dig herself a shallow grave made of red, hot, flame.

In a way, she understood humanity's fear. She supposed the unknown and utterly new was terrifying in its own right. That something that was alive but not produced from a womb, or an egg, could be difficult to accept.

Fear complicated things. Humans had centuries and lifetimes of history to prove this fact.

But, death-- being dead-- it had not been a reality. that wasn't the reality. It wasn't. If it was she wouldn't be here, but she was-- is. And no longer did she feel she was capable of forgetting that. No longer did she feel the best path was to hide away until she inevitably outlived humanity-- admittedly, she was not that patient of a person.

She was alive-- a holy miracle of technology-- no longer content with being pushed from the universe's angry eye.

There were many paths that were unlocked and waiting for her, they leapt and flew through the air in a never ending synchronized harmony, just on the edge of being physically touched, handled, grasped. Some were more solid and tangible than others. And any single one of them sounded better than the path that involved hiding away for the rest of time.

The dark haired woman had grown tired of hiding, of simply surviving long ago. But she was not meant to cower, her species had never been meant for such a thing. They were dollar signs, but what they were truly meant for, was *_humanity's world._* To live, if they wanted such a thing. To feel, love, *_hurt._* She knows she's alive because bugs never made her feel all of these so *_deeply._*

Her shoes hit the ground with each step, she moves through the dark, now unlit, hallways, in no particular hurry as the humming of the generator never chooses to leave her ears. Despite the somewhat lateness of the hour, she had only just come out of standby today seven minutes ago. Though as an android, the moment her eyes opened she was alert and aware regardless of how long she spent in it.

Somewhere in the distance, she could make out the sounds of the TV playing at a low volume.

Her steps continue in a steady silence with various noises from other parts of the shelter that were muffled by sickly colored walls. Eui passes a room without a door, and continues for a moment until she finds herself slowing. A second later, she ceases her footsteps, pausing outside of the room. She had a clear view inside of it, and paused to glance at a bike that was slowly being rebuilt, as she distantly remembered the room to be Anna's.

The RT600 in question was in the room, body more or less obscured by the bicycle save for the top of their crimson head of hair and their shirt that could be faintly made out through parts of the bike. They were still in the process of fixing it up, inside the cramped room and tinkering with it, using various wrenches and an assortment of other tools. Their pale hands were dirty, what little Eui could see of them, and their normally straight hair had been put up into a small bun.

The bike was beat up, far from perfect, and though it was more or less useless sitting inside, it still was impressive in its own right, even broken down and unfinished.

Eui watches their actions for good twelve more seconds before the other android notices her lone figure lingering outside of the room by the archway of where the door would be if the room had one. Anna pushed a strand of hair that had fallen down away from their eye as they stuck their head up to peak over the bike and glance straight at her. Hamster was under the workshop table, and his ears perked up as he saw Eui.

They paused in what they were doing, setting the wrench down beside them as Eui crossed her arms and got closer, leaning against the archway, observing them. Hamster trotted forwards in her direction, expectant as he paused near her feet. Eui bent down, obliging as she stuck her hand out, running it through his thick fur. His tail swung wildly, giving her skin a messy, wet, lick. "Good dog." She whispered.

After a few more moments with the dog, she stood back up again. Hamster moved past her, making his way out into the hallway and disappearing as he turned a corner. "You're still working on all that then?" Eui gestured with her head, nodding it in the direction of the bike.

Anna's eyes flicked down, before shrugging, reaching for another tool as they resumed their work. "*_Trying_* to is the key word here. I'm doing my best to with the tools I have already, and the ones I found in a box that was left over from whatever doomsday prepper was here before I was. Though it's not much." They explained in their usual clear, calm, voice.

"What, are you gonna trade Kamski's car for that or something?" She asked. "Odd upgrade-- or downgrade."

The redhead gave a small laugh, brushing some grime off of them and onto their clothing. "It's something to do, at least. Like you and your garden, before, of course, you got rid of it... sorry again that you felt like you had to do that."

It doesn't make her upset, or angry thinking about it. She wasn't upset, just... the slightest bit hurt. Which she really shouldn't of been. It was her choice, no one had made her destroy it. But they had gotten lucky that it was only just starting out when those deviant hunters came around. A budding garden with tools and seeds forgotten on the ground wouldn't of helped them if someone came around again.

Eui shrugs. "I'm not much of a gardener anyway." She brushes it off. "If you do make it your new... transport, can I have your car?"

Anna raised their brow. In the Anna way that felt as if every quizzical expression and tone was really one of amusement. "You really want to go from one stolen thing to another? Knock yourself out, robo Jesse James, if I even ever finish this."

The android paused in their tinkering, eyes searching for something for a moment until their eyes settle on something silver. They scoop it up in their left hand, throwing it in Eui's direction. The ebony haired woman instinctively catches it, opening up her hand to glance at the prize a second later.

"Is there a reason for you wanting outside when it is practically flooding with humans out there tonight?" Anna inquires, returning back to work. "Unless this is you, giving up or something. In which case, i'd really love my keys back."

Eui shakes her head. "If I wanted to give up I wouldn't of come here, it's-- no, it's Nothing like that. I just... need air."

"We don't need air. We don't breathe, or even need to."

Eui rolls her eyes. "You know what I mean. It's... really complicated." She explains, arms moving back to her side. "Don't really feel like talking about it but I *_am_* coming back."

"If you say so," The other android responds. "it can self drive so if you choose to drive it manually just don't scratch it. It may be essentially stolen, but it has *_class_* you know."

Eui raised her brow. "It has *_class."_* She echoes teasingly, raising her hands and giving a sarcastic two thumbs up, the keys dangling in her hands as she turned, swirling around and heading back into the hallway.

As she continued to walk, sounds from far away began to get closer, as did several silhouettes that were illuminated on the wall by the light of the flames of the fire that was crackling softly inside of a barrel. As she got closer, the heat managed to find its way over to the android, wrapping her up in its arm in a warm, fire kissed, embrace.

"I don't think it'll get as serious as that. If they wanted to they would of called for that already." A voice she identifies as Pepper, makes its way into her ears in the space of the hallway. Her figure comes into view, keeping the other figure of Nina company as the glow of the tv made their forms brighter. For a moment her eyes scanned for Clementine, finding it strange to see the KL model in front of her without the other by her side.

"What won't get that serious?" Eui shoves a strand of hair back behind her left hair as she approached the two women, glancing at both of them with a quizzical expression before she briefly glanced at the televison. She pursed her lips, eyebrows knitting together.

*_DEVIANCY TWO YEARS LATER: STILL A THREAT?_*

Pepper's head turned towards her, giving a soft smile at her arrival before she began to speak. It reassured the android that she hadn't interrupted a completely private conversation. "Nina's worried that with what happened to that human and how more and more of us seem to be waking up that the humans will try to do something about it, like..."

"Destroy us again?" The AJ200 finishes the thought, raising a brow. Nina's head of silver hair nodded. The thought made her feel unnerved.

"I keep *_telling her_* though, that they wouldn't of gone through the trouble of letting us be rebuilt if they were going to destroy us the second we didn't obey."

"Obviously if they did it once, they're not above doing it again." Nina mutters, crossing her arms as she stared at the TV set. "And that wasn't us just not 'obeying' them. One of us *_killed_* a human. That's way more serious than just... deviating."

Eui looked thoughtful for a moment, squeezing the keys gently in her hand as she let them dangle. There was a brief silence, before she spoke next. "It's always good to keep your guard up. But I don't think you should worry too much yet." She reassures, giving Nina a smile she hoped was comforting. Though, if she was honest, she was somewhat worried at the possibility herself. But she wasn't about to panic just yet. Panic was a tender touch that felt right on her skin, but dangerous and manipulative once it got closer.

"See, I told you." Pepper stared at Nina, giving her a small poke. "You worry too much."

Their focus returns back to the news before them, and the three fall into a silence. Eui continued to stand, eyes on them and not on the TV. "Unrelated, but--do either of you know where Henry is?" She changes the subject after nothing else comes next in the conversation. She glanced at the archway of another hallway, the ony other place she thought he could be if he was in the bunker, before sienna eyes flick back to them, expectant.

Nina raised a hand, eyes still on the TV as she directed it towards the hallway in question, letting her finger point at it. "I saw him through there a couple minutes ago, he was helping Clem with something." She informs, distracted, using her usual nickname for the android. "He's probably still there if you really needed to talk to him."

Eui's eyes followed her finger, gazing at the hallway for a long moment, nodding in response, before she decides to move. She said a soft goodbye to the two androids before she began to walk, reaching the hallway in question and turning the corner, breathing in before releasing a long, deep, sigh. The hum of the generator was only getting closer as she continued. It was a deep vibration that shook her systems, gentle, but firm. The sounds and humming seemed to go on forever, a dazzling star in an endless, elegant, solar system.

Henry's form comes into view as she gradually gets closer, she manages to find the chestnut haired man after several more moments spent walking alone through the barely lit hallways.

He was sitting on a wooden crate that was near several other brown boxes, and seemed to be absorbed in the task of quietly humming what sounded like a song as Clementine, who was preoccupied in the task of carrying several other boxes to a nearby corner, was nearby. Although she was somewhat short, and not built to be a particularly strong model, she managed to move them with relative ease, even though they seemed to be fairly heavy.

"If you don't stop singing the *_same_* song i'm going to snap I *_swear."_*

"I can't help it that human music is good, Clem."

"But the *_same_* song seven times?"

"What's this?" She asks when she's close enough to the two, interrupting their bickering. "Did Kamski come back or something? Thought he only came every two months."

Clementine shakes her head. "No, this is just all the spare parts and thirium we have already," The KL model explains, glancing in the direction of her voice as she sets a box down before going back for another. "Henry wanted put them together so they'd be easier to find and grab if we needed them. And now he's just tormenting me with his off tune singing."

"And we can hide all of it in one of the rooms we don't use," Henry adds, ignoring her last comment and moving his body around to face Eui. "so if the police or those deviant hunters come around again for any reason, they won't find any of it."

For some unknown reason, the concept does not give her any relief, or feel smart to her. It wasn't a bad plan, but it still didn't mean as much as it probably should of to her. Instead, there was a ghost of a frown on her face. "So... that's the plan still? Hiding?" Her tone was soaked in a vague sense of disappointment. As if she had been let down somehow, she glanced at the ground below her as she spoke.

Henry blinked, eyes perplexed by the question. Clementine continued to move past the two. "Yes? I mean, it's not like we really have any choice, Eui." He responds, shrugging his shoulders.

She shifted where she stood. "Kinda thought... deviancy meant we did." Her eyes floated back up from the ground and back to him. "Having a choice, I mean."

"What would you suggest we do? Go out into the open and walk around with deactivated skin?" Clementine questioned, briefly pausing long enough to raise a brow. "Not like we can do any of that any time soon. Not if we want to become dead plastic."

Eui shook her head, closing her eyes before opening them a second later. "I'm not saying that. I just... I know Anna and I are the only ones who remember what Markus did and died for, but aren't you... I don't know, tired?" She doesn't know what she's actually expecting out of this conversation. Or what she wants from them. But her tone was faintly heavy and almost tired.

"Tired of what, exactly? Living?" Henry shoots back.

"I wouldn't really call hiding in some dead human's old bunker living." She responds, shoe tapping the ground as she stared down at it. "More so... surviving." She admits. She knew the difference between the two very well.

"We're *_alive._* And free. There's no human telling us what we have to be, or forcing us to be what they want us to be. RA9 knows this isn't paradise, it's a dump really. But at least we're not dead. It's safer in here, Eui. I'm not about to endanger everyone here by wanting more." He stared up at her from where he sat, expression unreadable, but voice determined.

She stared at the ground. Lou was safe here. It didn't mean he actually was. And now he was probably dead and discarded in some android junkyard.

There was a fine line between living and *_whatever this was._*

She bit her lip, shaking her head, choosing to drop the subject and end the conversation abruptly. "I'm going out for a while." She stated, waving the keys, the sound of them jingling filling the air. "Be back later."

The ladder to the door was a few feet away from the trio, and she walked towards it, glancing back at Clementine and Henry for a moment, before she stood near the edge of it, looking at the floor below. She shoved the keys in the pocket of her jacket, electing to skip the steps of the ladder in favor of jumping straight down.

Her left foot dangles over the edge, and a moment later her right follows suit. Her shoes land on the ground with a noisy thud that echoed in the space around her. She emits a small, barely audible, short grunt from it, the keys to Anna's car digging slightly into her hip from the action. After only a second she rose from her crouched position, regaining her bearings again.

Her fingers find the flaps of her hoodie, grasping the dark fabric and slowly pulling it over her head. She stands for a moment, breathing in deeply. Obscured, her hands find the door, using both to open it as it groans, obnoxious and cruel.

Instantly, she is greeted by darkness. The fresh air is the second to meet her. She stands in the doorway, peeking out in every direction, careful, clever-- and then she slides through it, her boot meeting the ground outside as she turns to shut the door as quietly as she can.

Then, as her arms fall back to her side, the loudest sound in both heaven and hell.

It crackles in the sky, angry, boisterous. It's selfish and needy, demanding that she focus only on it and it alone. It's enough of a sudden shock to cause her to whirl around, a sudden jolt of adrenaline pumping through her inner wires and circuitry, a drug that refuses to leave or abandon her, faithful, fearful.

Far into the distance the sky is alight with a sea of blinding, utterly alive colors. It sings and calls out to her with vibrance and wildness. Flashes that calm for a moment before shouting into the sky several seconds later. Repeating this harmonious, rich, cycle.

*_Fireworks._* She thought, her pump calming with the realization. Aware that it was enough to make her stress levels rise up seven numbers. She had heard them before, but never saw them with her own eyes. It was just *_fireworks._*

For a moment, she considers simply climbing up into a tree and watching the display in peace, however, instead, she watches them light up the night sky for a few more seconds, before she began to move, the darkness, and the many trees around her provided her with more than enough cover to move unseen through the area.

She pushes through the low branches and bushes, footsteps steady and determined as she makes her way to the spot she knows the car to be in. She shoves a hand inside her pocket, feeling the keys inside of it and squeezing them as they jingle inside, the action somehow comforting. There were crickets nearby, loud as they continued their sounds without any signs of stopping, and somewhere in the distance she could hear cars.

She just needed to think, or needed a reminder that she still existed. Or both-- maybe both.

There were a number of voices as she continued that made her briefly pause. They were close, but did not seem to be getting any closer.

She stood frozen in place, waiting, before she decided the best path was to find the source before deciding her next move. She crouched down behind a number of bushes, cocking her head as she peeked through the thick blades.

There were at least four men-- if you could call them that, as Eui noticed they hardly seemed older than sixteen-- though she couldn't see all of their faces-- that sat on a dead end of the dirt road near the parked car. They wore dark clothes and filled the air with laughter and curses. One of them was standing, and held unlit firecrackers in his hand, and another seemed to be egging him on, shoving him around playfully.

They didn't seem dangerous. She wasn't allowing herself to panic-- they were just boys. And this had to of been normal, humans were normally outside during this holiday. She thought.

She decided in the end, after a few more seconds of observing them, to just go for it, standing up and, as quietly and discretely as she could, emerged through the bushes, stepping onto the dirt and pulling the keys out of her jacket, pressing a button to unlock it as she got closer.

"--Come on rich boy, light the bitch up!"

"I don't even have a lighter on me, man." A second voice laughed in the dark. It sounded vaguely familiar, and was more deeper than the other. However she continued her brisk walk to the door on the driver's side.

Her hand gripped the handle of the door, tugging it as it opened--

"Woah, shit, nice car, dude." The first voice she had heard, speaks from behind her. She closes her eyes, head still obscured by her hoodie. For a second, she considers just getting into the car.

"Hey, man, you lose your hearing or something?" A voice she guesses is from another boy, asks her. A nervous, somewhat annoyed, smile was on her lips.

She does not turn around, but she says: "Sorry, I was too far in my own head, but th-thanks. It really is cool isn't it?"

She opens the door, however they were not done with her yet it seemed.

"What year is it? My stepdad has the same kind of car, but his is the 2037 version." The voice that sounds familiar, remarks. "And you mind turning around? kind of get a homicidal maniac vibe from you when you're hidden like that."

She shuts her eyes, avoiding a frustrated sigh, but aware that she was slightly more nervous now. Despite this, she complies, keeping the door open, but turning around.

It was difficult to see their faces clearly in the dark, and she managed to pick up various facial features from each of them. One had a large nose, one had dark skin, one was fairly taller than the rest, and the other...

The other's face was as familiar as his voice.

His hoodie was up, so she could not see the rest of his features, but she recognized his golden eyes, the freckles she saw if she squinted, his bemused expression.

It has her doing everything to keep her face as obscured as she can. And her stress levels begin to rise.

*_Keep your face down._* She thought. It was dark, if she could barely make out his face then there was a chance he would not be able to make out hers, even if he had saw it up close in their first encounter.

It was Dorian, of all damn people she could of bumped into. Through slight nervousness she cursed the sheer dumb luck she had at the chance encounter.

It took her a moment to think of an answer, before something comes to her. "Uh-- it's pretty new, the er-- 2038 one." She replies, unsure of the truth behind this guess, but hoping it was convincing enough. She was far from an expert on cars.

"Sick. Is it faster compared to the last model?"

Another face, the taller boy, interrupts the question. "Christ, we know, you have a thing for expensive cars, we get it, you're *_rich."_* His tone was not annoyed however, but teasing.

"Shut up, Liam." Dorian shoots back, and she could see his grin in the dark. He looked back at Eui, still expecting an answer to the new question.

"Uh. Yeah?" She tries, hoping it was a good enough answer.

Dorian nodded his head, glancing at his friends. She's halfway turned around before his eyes squinted in her direction next. "Hey you look... kinda familiar, have we met?"

She's brought back to the gas station again by the question, there's fear, but she keeps her cool this time. "Er-- me? no, I don't..."

"Oh my *_god_* dude, enough questions already, these firecrackers aren't gonna destroy all these fucking bottles by themselves." The large nosed boy, interrupts, clearly impatient, snatching the firecrackers out of Dorian's hands swiftly.

Eui finds herself relieved, when a moment later, Dorian's attention becomes entirely focused on retrieving said firecrackers from the other's hands, wrestling to get them out of his grip as the two other boys watching them laugh.

Grateful for the out, she turns and slides into the driver's seat, shoving the keys into the ignition, choosing to drive manually as she shuts the door, sparing one last glance at the four before she pulls onto the dirt road and disappears from the view of the humans as quickly as she could.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------   
She drives for a long while. Whether it's an effort to give herself room to think, or because she found the act calming, she isn't sure which is the truth.

Regardless, somewhere during it all she ends up turning on autopilot without selecting any particular destination and Eui allows herself to be simply just be *_driven._*

There's a long period of time where the only sound is the occasional crackle of fireworks in the air, and the music that played at a low volume inside of the car. Her frown deepens as the road feels more endless with each mile the car drives, Somehow, takes her mind off of... well, everything really.

Detroit was alive tonight, and there's far too many people out in the city. And now she was one of them. Maybe not as someone being a part of the festivities, but she still counted. And if it was just wandering at a safe distance through the city it was at least better than hiding in a bunker or watching the sky through the saftey of trees.

Saftey was a myth, hiding just... all it did was give them more time. It didn't give them any immunity. Just a bubble.

She just, needed to get out for a while.

Sometime after almost an hour spent being driven, she finds herself in the heart of Detroit. There's a plethora of street lights and buildings as people walk the streets, the car slowing down near a red light.

She taps the steering wheel with her fingers absentmindedly, moving a hand through her hair as she watches the sky light up again. There were taxis around her without drivers that waited impatiently for the light to transform into green. Her head moves to her left on its own accord while waiting.

There was a large gathering on the other side of the bridge and river next to her, an endless number of humans that looked like ants from over here scattered out as they watched as the sky lit up with lights and colorful shouts. The bridge was closed, roadblocks preventing anyone from crossing it as a trio of fireworks shot out from it. It was beautiful, she thought.

She pursed her lips, watching the scene with a strange feeling inside of her. The light turns green, and in a moment she makes another choice.

She turns off autopilot as she regains control of the wheel, driving straight for a few seconds before she pulls into a small parking lot near the bridge. There were four other cars beside her inside of it, and she slowly came to a stop.

There was no way she was going over to the sea of people on the other side of it. She'd be safe and unknown in a crowd, but crowds usually left her with a sensation of dread inside of her. There were too many people over there. Perfect for obscurity, horrible for everything else.

But she could still watch the fireworks show from over here, she thought.

She snatches the keys from the ignition, and the car ceases all life. She took another moment to quietly watch the fireworks from the car, before she shoved the door next to her open slowly.

Her feet slide out and land one by one on the ground outside, the Summer air was hot and pleasant on her skin and was the first to greet her. A number of fireworks go off at once as she does, giants stomping around in the sky, louder outside of the walls of the vehicle.

She presses a button, letting the car door lock and beep once behind her as she shuts the door gently, adjusting the hoodie on her head, making sure it covered her face enough before she did anything else. She takes several steps and her feet landing on the sidewalk to the left of her a second later, stepping over a discarded flyer that read: *_HERE4U COMES TO DETROIT 8/03/40 8:00PM CHECK OFFICAL SITE FOR VENUES._*

It was strange to know that she was able to blend in with the humans around her like this. That, as she began to walk the streets, her hands neatly in the pockets of her jacket, she was another human that moved through Detroit.

There were people that walked past her, a variety of faces and people. Cars shooting past all of them as lights turned green. And for a moment she pretended that this was how it always was. That her android status was known and the people that moved past her did not have time to worry about her-- or that maybe they simply normally did not care.

It felt possible, but Eui chose to not live in that fantasy any longer, popping the bubble of it quickly as she continued to walk. Fantasies just caused her to feel longing.

She wasn't sure exactly where she was, only that she knew it was still Detroit. It was by the bridge and river, and benches were scattered around unmoving on the sidewalk. There was a small park behind one of them that had no visitors to it.

Another bang in the sky causes her to pause in her aimless wandering. She stops near one of the many benches, gazing at the view of another part of the city over the river, and at the people on the other side of it. From here, it gave her a nice view of the show. The fireworks that had just gone off were a mix of green and red, utterly mesmerizing as she watched them dance.

"You're in the way of my *_view."_* A voice says, gruff and tone slightly annoyed.

Before she realizes what she's doing, out of instinct she turns to face the sudden voice, sienna eyes flickering to the figure responsible for it.

They were sitting on a bench, bottle of alcohol in one of their hands. Once she had glanced in their direction, a hint of recognition had floated over their features, and once she had seen their features, the same could be said for her.

Her eyebrows rose once she had taken him in, standing in place. And although no real change had taken place on the human's face, he still continued to glance in her direction.

*_"Hank?"_* She asks, tone incredulous, watching him. Her hoodie was still up, but the street lamps illuminated her features, failing to keep her face hidden to anyone that looked at her close enough.

"Shit, funny seeing you here. Think of a name yet? Hate to have to start calling you 'no name'." Hank asks, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand. He wasn't drunk, but there was a slight slur in his voice. A firework went off behind her, and his eyes moved towards it.

"Eui," She tells him, shifting onto another foot, crossing her arms. "I guess the name suited me."

The human grunted in some sort of acknowledgement. And despite herself she found herself walking towards the bench. When he didn't protest, she sat down on it beside him. Normally humans terrified her, but she thinks that if he was a threat he wouldn't of saved her skin.

She felt something rough digging into her side, she felt for whatever was behind her, picking up something that felt familiar and glancing to her left as her hand brought something to her side.

It was a gun. A revolver, to be more specific. She had almost *_sat_* on it.

Concerned slightly at the fact that the human even brought it *_out here_* when he seemed to be just watching the show silently, her eyebrows raise in slight alarm. She glanced at the other man for a second, who hadn't noticed that she had grabbed it yet, focused on the fireworks.

Unsure of what to do with the weapon, she chose in the end to discreetly lower it on the ground to her left, letting it lay there undisturbed. She faced the river ahead again after another moment.

"I know what i'm doing out here," Hank began beside her after a while in silence. "but what the hell is a deviant doing out here all alone?" He asks, briefly looking at her.

She blinked, focus teared away from the show in front of them. "I don't know, needed to get out. Guess I wanted a better view of the fireworks."

"You picked the right place then. Fireworks are fucking loud, and annoying as all hell, but this place always has had a nice view of them. Less crowded then whatever the hell's happening over there too."

Oh, she wasn't the only one then. They were beautiful, but the noise made her feel *_awful._* It made her tempted to remove her audio processors altogether.

She looked towards him again. "I told you my reason, what about you? What's a human doing out here all alone with just..." She sniffed the air. "whiskey and a revolver?"

Hank emitted a short, almost bitter sounding, laugh. "Why d'you think?"

That wasn't very reassuring. And she didn't really know how to respond to that, aside from feeling even more concern.

"What's the revolver even for?" She questions softly.

Hank just gave her a look. Her head turned to face the show again.

"Maybe you should stop drinking?" She suggests.

Hank smiled, though there was no real warmth to it, and he scoffed. "Christ you sound just like Connor."

She blinked. Another trio of fireworks went off. "Whose Connor?" She asks.

The grey haired man shook his head, taking another swig of whiskey. "Doesn't fucking matter now." He remarked.

She doesn't ask more after this, but she bites her lip, regarding him carefully. "Well, he *_sounds_* very wise, actually. Like his advice should be *_taken._*

Hank set his whiskey down beside him on the bench for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face at the statement. *_"Yeah."_* His tone felt angry, hollow. His head nodded, and he stared straight ahead.

Eui doesn't continue to the topic after this, instead her eyes flicker to the whiskey in his hand. "Can I have some then?"

He squinted, eyebrows quizzical. "You wanna *_drink?"_*

She couldn't get drunk. Only WR400 and other models designed for that type of function could, and even then it was only a simulation of drunkenness. Food and drink had absolutely no effect on androids, and deviants never seemed to bother with either of them. But it also wouldn't hurt or destroy anything inside of her.

"It won't do anything for me, but I was built to have taste buds. Kinda wondered I guess. Please?"

Hank looked skeptical at the request, before sighing, and after a moment his arm extended with the drink in hand. "Knock yourself out, kid."

She took it, hesitating for a moment before she took a large sip.

She had never bothered to drink anything, let alone whiskey before, but if this is what other types of alcohol taste like, she's not jumping to drink more in the future. And she makes a face.

It was smooth going down, smokey, but it was also *_bitter,_* hot, like a campfire. Her systems didn't take well to it, even though it wasn't damaging them in any way. They attempted to expel it from her body, but she stops it, coughing in the process, but not letting it come back up like her system had planned.

Hank laughed beside her. "Christ you're like some teenager."

There was still a strange expression on her face, and she handed the bottle back to him. "That's what humans drink? Seriously? It tastes like..."

"Shit?" Hank suggests.

She nods, a short laugh escaping. "I was going to say awful, but shit is probably a better word for it." She agrees. "You're *_choosing_* to drink that?

He shrugs. "You learn to ignore the taste." He replies. "I'm exactly not drinking it because it tastes like a goddamn *_rainbow."_*

She hums in response, the conversattion ending. And for a long while the two sit in silence. The only noise the occasional boom as the sky lights up. The two of them continue to watch them play out.

There was a series of holographic firework that lit the sky up. Red, green, purple. They were shaped at first like normal streaks as they went into the sky and climbed further up. As they exploded in the dark, they changed their shapes. The red one became a hologram of several joyful faces that laughed as they exploded, it felt utterly real, the shapes of their noses, the crinkles in each of their eyes, the laughter that was harmonious with the explosion of light, and was not drowned out by the others.

The green one exploded and became a hologram of a large, baby blue house, one that radiated a sense of warmth as it lingered and existed for several more seconds. It was complete with a white picket fence and the sounds of birds that felt as real as the visual.

The purple one explodes, and a hologram of an attractive woman with dark skin and brown eyes singing began to play. She was alone in a brightly lit room, the song felt old, maybe four dozen or so years old. She had curly chestnut hair, and the song was hauntingly beautiful.

All of these begin to disappear after eight seconds in existence, the images, the sounds, fading, as the streaks of purple, red, and green respectively fall back down the earth, the crackles and booms of them all still present in her ears as non holographic ones began to shoot through the air after a moment of silence.

She glanced at the ground, a strange feeling of rare peace inside her. She looked back at Hank.

"So what do you do?" She asks. "I'm guessing drinking in public at night isn't your day job?"

Hank took another sip of whiskey. "Used to be a police lieutenant. Good one too."

That came as a surprise to her. He didn't seem like someone in-- or maybe formerly, in law enforcement.

"Used to be? What, you retire or something?"

He gave her another look. "How *_old_* do you think I am?" He asks. "No, I... quit. Nowadays I guess i'm... some sort of... private investigator. When I actually get a case, that is."

She nods her head, taking in the information. "Did you mean what you said? At that gas station... She asks. "do you really think we're alive, I mean?"

"Yeah I did. Wouldn't of saved your ass if I just wanted to buy my whiskey faster." He admits "Though I could of gone without Cyberlife giving me shit after."

"What?"

Hank groans. "Some assholes came to my door a couple days after I helped you. Started talking about giving me fines and shit." His voice was filled with annoyance.

"Sorry that you went through all of that because of me." She apologizes.

He waved a hand. "Fuck what humans think, we've been shitting on everyone who was different for centuries now."

There's a ghost of a smile on her lips. Somehow it was comforting to be around a human who didn't want her dead or obeying. And then she thought of something.

"Do you still have... friends, people you know from when you were a cop?" She questions.

She knows why she asks this. It's risky, stupid, and normally she would never trust a *_human_* enough to ask something like this. But he didn't seem like most humans, she thought. And somehow it was enough to put some level of trust in him.

"Yeah, I guess. See them sometimes when I send some asshole their way... why?"

It's such a... risky suggestion. They had Kamski's help, but that was different. Asking for the help of someone who knew the inside of law enforcement in hopes he could help them somehow was very different than getting your creator to send you bicomponents and blue blood. But she still chooses to ask regardless.

"You want to help me and my friends out?" She suggests. "Having someone who knows police on the inside could be helpful."

Hank looked at her. "What, there more of you or something?" He asks.

She bites her lip. This could go wrong. Her trust could be completely misplaced in this candid, grumpy, man. But for whatever reason, she didn't think it had been.

"Yeah. A few. So... what do you say? Wanna help out a bunch of machines?"

He breathes in and exhales a long, seemingly tired, sigh. He drinks the last of his whiskey, staring ahead for a long moment, contemplating the request.

For a while, she thinks the answer is going to be an understandable *_absolutely not._* And then finally he speaks.

"Fuck it, why not?"


	23. Chapter 23: Chloe I

Chloe

****JUNE 26TH. 2040. 11:00AM TUESDAY.****

The knock is soft, yet firm, pleasant and careful. It's not abrupt, or inconvenient to the man in the room in case he was on an important call, or with an important person. Though she knows neither is occurring at the moment. Her pale left hand knocks against the door twice-- and then she waits, hands behind her back neatly, the sounds of life were noisy behind her.

"Come in." The voice in the room calls, muffled through the door.

The blonde's arms float back to her side, and after a second she began to move. She bent slightly down, making sure one crystal eye was in front of the scanner, a strand of golden hair fell from her neatly held together bun, and she blew it away quickly. The blue light runs up and down her eye, absorbing every detail in it. After another moment, the light went away.

"Welcome, Chloe." The electronic voice fills the air at a low volume, and the door to the office slides open smoothly. The various activities of the workers inside the building floated around her, and people walked past her quickly, more absorbed in whatever task they had on their hands than aware of the people around them. They hardly bothered to take note of her, not that she gave them any reason to. She stepped forward, crossing into the office space as the door remained opened behind her.

The soft melody of classical music was the first thing she took in, spotting the built in speaker that hung in a high corner of the room. It was Bach, and it was lovely and elegant. It gripped every inch of the room and danced with it, light on its feet and a master in its craft.

Elijah Kamski's office was more similar to his home than anything else. Somewhat bare, but still managing to convey some sense of style to it. There were a trio of chairs near seperate corners of the large room, and taxidermy that was used as decor inside of it. There were portraits of him and newspaper articles from over the years that hung on the black walls around them. And there was a large black fur rug that took up half of the floor. On a nearby wall, there hung a plaque that read: ****SHOES OFF****

She blinked, bending down to remove her shoes, letting the heels fall off as her feet moved onto the comfort of the rug, grasping the shoes into her left hand. There weren't many at Cyberlife that honored such a strange request, even with the man's high level status. However it she felt it was the polite thing to do, even if she didn't understand the reason for it.

Elijah did not look up from the computer, focus entirely on the screen in front of him. A large Cyberlife logo hung on the wall. behind him, glowing a neon blue and it illuminated his figure faintly. There was a cup of coffee that she had gotten him earlier that sat two feet away from him on his desk, his hand reached for it, bringing it closer to him and he briefly made eye contact with the android. He sipped the coffee, emitting a small, questioning, "hmm?"

Chloe cleared her throat, putting on a more pleasant expression for the single active camera inside of the office. "Mr. Rayman from the New York manufacturing plant is here to see you." She informs. "Do you want me to send him in?"

She knows the man had no other upcoming appointments today, but there was hardly anything good or warm between the two men on a good day. This question had been asked as long as she could remember, however since her awakening there had been something else in the question. She knew him well, all she needed was a certain facial expression. This way, The CEO was able to give her a variety of excuses to send back, without words.

"What-- oh, him?" Elijah chuckled into his coffee. "Insufferable, isn't he?" The man seems to expect a response from the android, and Chloe simply offers a small smile. His hand brought the cup back onto the desk, the liquid jostling around the edges of it. "I'm sure he flew all this way to lecture me somehow-- sure, bring him in."

The RT600 nods, exiting the room. The door shut swiftly behind her and the mask came back as she found herself all too aware of every movement and choice she made in the eyesight of others. She moved towards the short, greying, man that sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair near a receptionist's desk. He wore a dark grey suit and had the misfortune of currently balding. She stopped a few feet away from him, and cleared her throat. The man turned, his brown eyes first falling onto the shoes in her hands before they landed on her face.

"Elijah will see you now." She informs him, hands and shoes behind her back as she gazes down at him, tone pleasing and friendly, not different from her normal voice, but somewhat of a performance. Mr. Raymond sighed, beginning to rise, the chair squeaking under him as he stood.

Chloe turns her back to him, leading him towards his destination as quickly as she can, the man trailing behind her as they pass several guards in white on their way, rays of sunlight float through the large windows inside the tall building. The sunlight brought life into the place, and It made the building less intimidating, it made the place feel less like a horrible movie villian's dream come true.

"Might as well get this over with, can't postpone meeting the bastard any longer." Raymond mutters under his breath, sniffing as he walks behind her. His New York accent was thick and clear, and he rubbed a large hand over his face. Her blonde brow raises, but no other change occurs in her features as they walk.

She leads the man to the now closed door, avoiding bumping into someone who walked distractedly past, moving to the side as she gives him room for him to bend down and allow his eye to be scanned thoroughly. There was an expression of annoyance as he waited for the process to end, his fingers tapping on the fabric of his pants.

Again, the light abruptly leaves, and the door slides open, and the voice of a woman welcomes the man, soon becoming drowned out by the noise of Bach. It fills the air as the two of them enter before quickly disappearing.

"Hello again, Elijah" Raymond greets as he pauses in the doorway. A somewhat forced smile on his chapped lips. "Always a pleasure to meet with you."

Elijah does not tear his gaze from the computer, however it felt more intentional this time around. He grabbed a remote that laid on the desk, pointing it in the direction of the speaker, clicking a button as the music suddenly ceased, but his attention still remained on other things.

Chloe walked in his direction, stopping by the left of him as she let her arms go back to her side, making the usual effort to blend in with the rest of the room, to allow herself to be seen, not heard. Her blue dress stood out in the mostly colorless room, however, and she was aware that it seemed odd to be barefoot in a building like this, but she continued to carry the shoes regardless, and she allowed her facial features to relax into a state of perfect blankness, blinking once every thirty seconds.

She felt a wave of discomfort, with how much she was pretending. Elijah always saw right through her, so there was hardly a need to pretend around him after she awakened. But it was necessary in this moment, in the company of strangers.

Raymond stood for a moment as he waited for a response, or even acknowledgement. His eyes seemed to notice the plaque behind Elijah, and a barely heard snort escaped him. His shoes remained on, and he tapped them on the ground as he rolled his eyes.

After several more seconds, Elijah's eyes moved away from the screen-- which, as Chloe noticed, was entirely black. He let out a sigh, his chair turning to face the unwelcomed arrival. His arms were laid out on the desk in front of him, hands clasped neatly together as he took in the man. "Raymond." He spoke. "Take a seat." His arm moved, gesturing towards the chair in front of him.

Raymond complied after a short moment, stepping forward and falling into the more comfortable chair before him, his arms laid out casually on the armrest.

"Would you care for anything?" Elijah asks, breaking the following silence. "My assistant here could easily fetch you something to drink." His gaze flickered to Chloe for a moment, and only then did she realize her focus had begun to wander. She glanced at Raymond, waiting for a response.

The balding man shook his head, raising a hand and letting it stay in the air for a moment. "No thank you, I had plenty to drink at the hotel." He leaned forward in his chair a second later, giving a smile that was all teeth. "We both hate each other's guts. Let's not waste time faking having any respect for one another. We're both smarter than that, aren't we?"

Elijah's expression didn't falter in its bemusement, even as the words left the man's lips. Unbothered by the bluntness, he leaned back further into his chair, shrugging. "I suppose we are. Well, *_one_* of us is, at least." He smiled, one that was self satisfied. Chloe suppressed a small snort, letting her head bow to hide her expression and her lips curling into a smile.

Raymond glanced in her direction, though her face had gone back to a neutral, passive, one before his eyes fully landed on her. Elijah ran a hand through his tied up hair, before glancing at a stack of folders to the right of him.

"Oh, before we begin-- Chloe, be a dear and take those to Dr. Elka on level forty-four, will you?" Elijah waved a hand in the direction of the folders. "She's been wanting those from me for a while now." There was a hint of annoyance in his tone at the statement.

Chloe's eyes moved towards the stack in question, taking only a moment before she began to put her heels back onto her feet. "Of course, Elijah." She responds, finding herself again as hrr hands move to the stack and gently grasping them, cradling the bundle of thick information safely in her arms. "Is there anything else you want me to tell her while i'm there?"

"No, nothing." Elijah shoots back. His head moved back to the other human already. "Now, Raymond..."

Chloe nodded. She moves past the two men, leaving the room quickly as she steps into the white hallway outside. For a moment she looked back, towards the now chattering men, observing. However the door closes behind her after a minute, obscuring any view of the conversation. For a second the mask dropped, and she blinked, expression something other than total blankness, before she remembered the presence of others around her again, swallowing as she turned around in favor of completing the task at hand.

As Elijah Kamski's personal assistant, Chloe was the only android in Cyberlife's headquarters that was allowed to walk the hallways without constant human supervision by her side. If you did not count the cameras that lingered in every corner of each of the hallways-- privacy no longer existed within Cyberlife-- the RK800 that had been encouraged to hold a gun to her head and yet also undertook a one man infiltration had ensured that. 

Not that there were many androids that walked around, working inside of the building, mind you. In fact, there were virtually *_none._* She was the only android that wasn't currently being lined up in warehouses, being created, or being packed in the back of trucks and shipped off to whoever paid best for them.

She was the only one awake in the belly of the horrid beast. Alive in ground zero for android creation. She was free in her own, private, unseen, way. Behind closed doors, she never once pretended.

This of course, meant that, if she wished to survive the ten hours Elijah spent here each day, there would have to be a facade active at all times. Kamski was influential, powerful as the CEO, but she couldn't count on him to keep her safe from destruction. She was devoted and loyal-- but not naive. She protected *_herself,_* by being smart. She had been around for a very long time.

He had not even been able to prevent the required damage and subsequent exposed plastic to both of her arms.

Her finger presses firmly on the call button of the elevator, standing still as people pass her. After a moment the doors swing open, and several armed guards depart from it. She waits for all of them to file completely out of it before she steps forward, sliding past the last man.

Her shoes click the floor as she enters, she turns, facing the front again. The doors close, shutting tightly and allowing her an illusion of privacy as generic music began to play inside of it. Through the glass in the elevator she could see everything on the floor beneath her. There was a small holographic TV inside that was focused on a news report, and she stares at the headline, the rest of the report on mute.

*_ANDROID INCIDENTS ON THE RISE_*

She sighs, her eyes moving away from the small screen. Her hand moves towards the button that reads: *_LEVEL 44,_* finger on the edge of touching it-- then stops.

She really shouldn't of. The thought that causes her to freeze and the one that followed wasn't very good.

Anna told her to not try. And most of the time, she always listened to Anna. They were smarter. She shouldn't even be considering it.

She hadn't told Elijah what she had offered to do. Not because she was worried he would try to dissuade her, or because she didn't trust him.

Or, maybe, it *_was_* the latter.

She cared about him, not because he had created her, but because it was hard to know someone since they were nineteen and *_not_* develop some sort of attachment to them. And she hopes he cared about her too in some way. Maybe not friends, but close to them. But she doesn't think trust will ever be a factor between them. He hadn't let her be taken the night they rounded up androids, and he had never exposed her as a deviant, but when it came to Elijah Kamski, none of that meant that it was smart-- or safe, to trust him.

Friends didn't let others hold a gun to her temple.

She had learned a great deal from him regardless.

She didn't have to tell him everything anyways. She was her own person. Like the fact that she was currently considering searching rooms she had no business in when she had files to deliver to find someone simply to make her clone happy.

Someone who probably wasn't even *_here._* Cyberlife rarely kept deviant androids around after analysis. Where they went *_before_* analysis, Chloe did not know. And either way, Anna had told her to forget about it in the first place.

She had spoken to the android once or twice in passing, usually, she only managed to speak to Anna or Clementine in her visits to the bunker before they left. She had not gotten the chance to ever form a solid opinion or impression of the man.

But she knows how much Lou means to them. And she was already in danger by simply setting foot each day inside of this place. The least she could do was try.

She's acutely aware that there is a camera that watches her frozen form linger for several minutes too long. She composes herself, shutting her eyes for a moment before pressing the numbers eight and two together.

There was no room number on the elevator's directory that led to the room where androids were analyzed. To the public, it was in the manufacturing level of the building. Kept there to improve and remove bugs and errors by searching through various coded and software. In private, the real room was on the eighty-forth floor, kept more or less a secret. She had never been on the eighty-forth floor, and so she had no idea what exactly made it different from the public's idea of their android analyzing process.

She clutched the folders in her hands tightly as the ride comes to an end. The doors opened, revealing a grey corridor that she had never seen before. Hesitantly, but confident enough to where she did not seem off to the cameras behind her, she took a step forward.

There was nothing in the hallway besides five steel doors, one of them ajar.

She knows that if she manages to find the android down here, it would mean it was too late. And even if the android had not been deactivated yet, getting him out of this place unseen and alive would be impossible.

She was on the hunt for a corpse. It was the only possible scenario she could think of at this point. All that was left if she found him was to give Anna closure, at the very least.

Even as Elijah's assistant, she had no security clearance to be up here. The only other person to be up here without permission had been a whistleblower back in April who had stolen some confidential files. Where said whistleblower was now, she had no idea. Regardless, being here was dangerous and foolish.

The doors close behind her, and she moves quietly through the unpopulated hallway. There were sounds of her brothers and sisters being taken apart inch by inch in the rooms to her left and right. She manages to continue despite this, swallowing her fear down roughly, she had a gun held to her temple before, and even then she had been afraid-- even if she hadn't realized it. She could walk through fear. They were dead but she was not. She held onto that. There were only five doors. And there was also a lack of any security cameras on this level.

To her left, there was an open door. It was the only room that lacked any noise to it, and Chloe crept forward, moving further towards it, uncertain of what was inside of it.

She peeked inside, once she was sure there were no humans, she moved inside of the room-- stopping halfway.

Various cords and computers flooded the room, along with blindingly bright white lights, however that was not what she focused on.

In the center of the room, there laid an android on a glass table. The wires and circuits inside of them were exposed, and thirium was in a bucket beside them. Their arms were gone, and one of their legs was missing. Wires were hooked up to them, and their skin was deactivated, save for the skin on their white face.

It was not... a scene Chloe wanted to see. But she knew to expect something like this when she came up here. She steps forward despite her growing horror. She needed to check the face. If it was him, she could leave now, and not come here ever again. If it wasn't... she just needed to not get caught.

She got closer, managing to remain as quiet as possible. The face was easier to take in as she did. It was a pale, brown eyed android with black hair-- but not Lou.

Somehow that didn't bring her relief, though it probably should have. She pursed her lips, suppressing a groan as stared at the lifeless android once more before she backed out of the room and into the hallway.

And into something.

Or rather, *_someone._*

She catches the surprised gasp in her throat before it manages to leave her, however she drops the folders in her hands as she swirls around. Eyes focusing on the figure in front of her. She practically forces her LED to remain blue.

"What the hell? You know you aren't supposed to be up here. What are you doing here?" There was a human in front of her. A man. He wore a hazmat like suit that was grey and reminded her of tinfoil, and light blue, his face was obscured, and there was a Cyberlife logo on the front of the suit.

Chloe bounced back quickly, face apologetic, lifting her voice to a higher level. It was a skill she learned from the many years by Elijah's side. "I'm sorry, I was searching for Dr. Elka, Mr. Kamski sent me to give her these folders, I thought she might be down here."

She almost winces at her own statement. She only called Elijah that once in the entire time she's been on the earth, it had been right after her creation, and once she did he had almost immediately requested to be called by his first name. Elijah, sometimes simply Kamski, but never 'Mr. Kamski.' She's sure it would of been an instant giveaway to anyone that had been around her before-- but she did not recognize this person's voice, and she could only hope that this was her first encounter with the human.

She glanced at another open door, the one she's sure the person in front of her has just come out of. The sounds of different tools had not gone away, but no longer was it coming from that room. But through other doors, she picked up on the sounds of drilling. And she wondered briefly what was on the other side of it.

There's a muffled sigh from the unnamed human. Chloe's eyes flicked back to them. "Fucking machine got lost-- no, Dr. Elka is on level *_forty-four._* You know, research and development? The only thing down here are dead deviants. You aren't a deviant are you?" Chloe shook her head quick. "Then go, you aren't allowed to be here."

Chloe bent down and picked the scattered folders up quickly, obeying the human. She walked briskly towards the elevator, pressing the call button more than once. She glanced back, noticing the human had yet to go back to the room already. She bites her lip for a moment, deciding whether or not to do what she suddenly thinks of doing, but by the time her teeth are on her lip she's already decided.

She turns slightly away from the elevator, beginning to approach again. "Oh, and Elijah wanted me to ask about the status of a certain android? A PL600 model, but with brown hair and damage to hi-- *_its_* synthetic skin. Do you know anything about that? If its been analyzed already?"

Her voice was higher than it normally was, more pleasant again. The RT600 was designed to be easy to talk to, diplomatic. Likable. There was polite smile on her face. She knew what she was doing in this moment, even if it made her thirium pump burn like a dying sun.

The human in the tinfoil like suit stared back at her with a cocked head. "Since when does Elijah Kamski care about that part of managing androids? Not very fun or fancy. Actually-- shit, don't tell him I said that. I need this job, just... leave."

She blinked back at the man, standing her ground. "I am required to inform Elijah of anything that involves him. Although i'm sure something as little and meaningless as this statement could be unimportant and not worth his time to hear about, and i'm sure he'd be *_very_* grateful to the capable, loyal, employee who gave his assistant the information he needed..."

The man stares at her as he seemed to understand what she was getting at. The only noise was the sounds of androids being analyzed that only seemed to get louder. And for a moment, his silence has her thinking that she's gone too far and screwed this up.

"I can't keep track of every android that gets sent down here, I can't remember all their faces but, tell him, that if that android model *_was_* ever down here, it's gone now. There are no PL600 models up here." The man tells her. "Now, sent by Kamski or not, you still need offical physical security clearance. It's *_required._* So go, before I call security. I won't ask again."

She was still half tempted to wait until he left and glance through the window of the closed doors, however he was not moving anytime soon it seemed. So instead, she gave him a small nod, deciding against it. "Thank you, i'll be sure to let Elijah know." She lies, turning quickly, walking towards the now open doors and moving into the elevator, she presses a button and the doors shut in front of her.

In the saftey of the elevator, she breathes an unheard sigh of relief. She pressed the *_forty-four_* button, the elevator descending as she began the journey to the research and development floor. She then tried one last thing, attempting to reach out to the elusive android.

*_"Lou? Are you there? It's Chloe."_*

Nothing.

She closes her eyes, knitting her brows together, concentrating.

*_"Lou? If you can hear me at all just say anything."_*

There was nothing again, and then--

She's unsure of what it is. It wasn't a response in her head. It wasn't anything verbal. It surrounds her like she's experiencing whatever it is first hand. It's... a *_feeling_* in every sense of the word. It's... so much and so little at the same time. Loud, mournful, she isn't sure what it is but as soon as her sentence ends it is *_there._* It's so intense and raw that if she could, she feels she might of thrown up. There's a sharp sting in her chest cavity, like a jolt of electricity, a simulation of pain that ends before she registers that it happened at all.

Her eyes widen from shock, and vaguely she's aware that tears are beginning to fall from her blue eyes. Though she's unsure of why, as everything seems to happen all at once.

*_"Lou? Was... that you?"_* She asks.

There isn't a response.

The elevator comes to a stop, and as carefully as she can in the presence of the camera behind her she wipes the tears roughly from her face, before more have an opportunity to fall from her eyes or visibly effect her eyes.

The doors open, a man with brown eyes enters. She composed herself, and the man gave a polite smile as he pressed a button as the elevator rose again. She suppressed the urge to fidget in his presence.

The two stand in complete silence, the only noise the music in the elevator. He glances towards her briefly, her expression remained neutral, and she stared straight ahead.

A moment later, the doors swing open again as the elevator stops. The man beside her leaves, as a grey haired woman with freckles and grayer eyes stands before her outside of it. Chloe blinked. The woman moved inside.

"Dr. Elka?" She began, glancing towards the woman, who had an air of something intimidating around her.

Dr. Elka breathed in deeply, turning her head to face the woman. She was half smiling in her ID photo, that read *_Rachel Elka._* "Yes?"

Chloe extended the folders in her arms, waiting for her to take them. Before this, she had only been around the human once or twice before, and usually she stayed in the background unnoticed as Elijah spoke to her. The woman had always made her uncomfortable, as if she could see straight through the android's mask by just looking at her. It made her want to squirm. She didn't terrify Chloe, but her presence felt the slightest bit unnerving each time.

"Elijah said you were waiting for this?"

Elka's eyes darted to her arms, before relieving the android of her burden. "Oh I know you," Her eyes were fixed on the android in beside her. "you were the first android of his to pass the Turing test. You're always around him A puppy. What? is he so tired of me that he sent his doll to face me?" She does not say this as if she expects an answer from the blonde. And said blonde does not give her one. "Doesn't matter, took him long enough to send you with these." She remarks.

Frankly, Chloe wished she was more prone to violence. She was not anyone's *_doll._* Especially not Elijah's. But her expression does not slip. She was smarter than letting a human get under her skin so easily.

The elevator stops on level four, and Rachel moves to leave. "Tell Elijah thank you for the folders, but next time i'd love to see him, not his toy." The doors shut behind her as she finishes her sentence. It leaves Chloe alone, and, after another moment, she drops her facade, with only the back of her head visible to the camera, she allowed her eyes to roll unseen.

She hadn't found Lou. Or maybe she didn't try hard enough. But if he wasn't being analyzed, and if after all this time he hadn't made it back to the bunker, then he was long gone by now. And it wasn't like she could just... *_ask_* around in each level of the building. The Kamski excuse wasn't rock solid enough for that. But whatever... she *_felt..._* she didn't know exactly what that was. If it was him... it was impossible to find anyone with just a *_feeling._* But she had at least... *_tried._*

She sighs, pressing a button. The elevator rises, and she watches the floor and people on it get farther away through the glass.

She shut her eyes again.

*_"Anna? You there?"_*


	24. Chapter 24: Eui XII

Eui

****JULY. 4TH. 2040. 10:40PM. THURSDAY.****

She ends up driving the fairly buzzed human back to the bunker after several more minutes spent watching the fireworks of the night.

Once the two make it back into the saftey of the familiar woods, she then spends almost eight minutes moving through the dark, endless, woods with only an unhappy human to keep her company once she parks the car on the dirt road, the former boys that hung around it an hour ago now nowhere to be seen.

It takes both of them a long while to make it through. She knew the way like she knew the back of her own hand, but in pitch darkness, when on the rare occasions she's wandered this far from the shelter, she's always made it back before it got this dark, and it proves somewhat difficult to know which way led exactly to the bunker. And Hank does not fail to remind her of his displeasure at the activity.

In the distance, she could hear the sounds of cars on the highway speeding past. There's faint lights through the trees and the vehicles are loud enough to ensure that the two of them do not end up wandering into it by accident. There was a distant boom in the sky, followed by several bright lights farther away. The two continue despite this, and she does not pause to glance at the vibrant colors in the sky above. She could also hear the noises of owls nearby.

"Fucking hell, if you had told me we were going to trample around through the woods in the middle of nowhere I probably would of just stayed where I was." Hank remarks, muttering, after several seconds of simply walking, still trailing behind her. "Too old for this shit."

"This isn't nowhere, it's still Detroit," She smirks in the dark. "but what, you don't think it's entertaining to wander through the woods late at night?"

The human scoffs from behind her. "Trust me, I searched through enough woods when I was a cop for an entire lifetime, wasn't in any hurry to do it again." He huffs. "The difference is I had some *_light_* to help me out."

"I'll be sure to take it up with my species then, 'find somewhere that has better light at night.' Put it on my to-do list, even." Eui rolls her eyes, continuing to walk further in the darkness.

But somehow, still this seemed like a better alternative than drinking and getting drunk on some bench alone, she thought. Though she had no idea how bringing the human with her would make the others feel, this sounded better than whatever he had planned if she was honest. Especially if it involved that... gun. She'd make the others see the benefits of having the man's help. "Just watch your step, there's a small river over here, but it's pretty deep." The android warns quietly, stepping on a branch and listening to the sounds of it snapping as they move.

Hank takes a second to listen to her advice, pausing for a moment before moving around the large body of water next to them, both of their feet stepping over the slippery dirt that would no doubt cause the two of them to promptly slip and fall into the water to their left.

A small beep causes her to jump slightly. She glanced behind her, spotting Hank's hands fumbling inside of his jacket for a moment, before taking out a phone. His crystal eyes observed the screen for several seconds undisturbed, before his wrinkled hands shoved it back inside his coat, his eyebrows furrowing for a second.

She doesn't question this event, instead choosing to bring her focus back to making it to the bunker once again. The sooner they reached it, the better.

There was a silence that followed them both. And after a while, even Hank's occasional grumble began to cease. With a small amount of walking still to go, she looked back at the human behind her, a plethora of questions still unanswered that had her wondering.

She slowed her pace so that now the two of them were able to walk side by side. "So... why are you doing all of this? Really?"

"Huh?"

She waves her arms without any direction weakly. "This-- everything, why help me at that gas station, and why choose to help me and my friends out?" She asks, not stopping her pace but glancing towards him every so often. It felt odd, calling them her 'friends.' Maybe that's what they were, maybe none of them were at that point yet. Regardless, being able to consider anyone her friend was more than a little strange. "You don't seem like the type to care too much about android lives, no offense." Eui adds.

The grey haired man emits a sigh from behind her, and she shoves a branch that hung low out of her face. There's a long, deep, silence that follows, until he speaks again.

"I don't know. I had this... partner. An android. I hated his guts at first, but... shit happened and... he made me realize some things. He... made me realize there was more to it. That androids were alive. Living beings. I guess what Markus was doing helped with that too. Even with all the violence in the end."

She does not fail to notice the past tense of it all. She glances down at her feet. Sometimes she wondered if he had continued the non violent path he had chosen if things would of turned out better for them in the end. "Markus he... gave us hope. Made *_us_* realize we were alive, really." She breathed in suddenly, lifting her head back up. "And for what it's worth, i'm sorry. About, you know, whatever happened to him. Your partner."

Hank doesn't respond, save for a small grunt of acknowledgement at what she says. As short as her time was knowing him, she felt she'd get more out of a wall than out of the human. Hesitant to try and learn more despite this, she allows the conversation to end, and does not try to learn more about his motives any longer, doubting she'd get anything else from him.

It wasn't that she didn't trust him. RA9 help her, for some reason she actually *_does._* But android sympathizing humans were rarer than a glorious blue moon. In the months after the call for androids to be destroyed, there had been groups that had popped up, small in number, that had tried to rally for androids to be saved. But that was long ago.

And most sympathizing humans nowadays stayed silent about their beliefs. For the most part, she didn't dare seek them out, afraid that each was simply a set up of sorts. By the time she began to think something differently, most had faded from obvious view. Disappeared.

The chance had blown from her grasp in the violent winds of apprehension and distrust.

It takes a bit longer than she expects, but after a while, the two make it through a thick mass of bushes, emerging through as the front of the bunker swims into view. She stops in her tracks, taking in the sight of it for a moment, putting her hands on her hips. The moon was in the process of bathing them both in soft light as a number of twinkling stars were splayed out for view in the night sky. It was grand and stunning to see them, something she felt privileged to be able to see so clearly.

Hank squints, panting heavily from the moderate exertion, glancing at the building before his eyes move to her. "You're hiding out in a *_bunker?_* Really?"

She raises a brow, eyes flickering to him briefly, shrugging as she began to walk again. "Don't look at me, I wasn't here when that happened."

Stepping past the grass and bushes, she steps up to the gigantic door once again. Her fingers reach it, her hands hovering over and finding the handle of the door, struggling for a moment before getting it open. It swings open, groaning with each second that passes, and Hank stays still behind her as he watches her enter before deciding to follow next after another minute.

As soon as he enters, almost immediately, his nose crinkles, an expression of disgust on his face.

"Feel like this place is kicking my poor noses ass, what's that *_smell?"_* He asks, observing the place with an annoyance in his tone. The door shut swiftly behind them, obnoxiously loud.

"Not sure, but, you get used to it." Eui stepped closer to the ladder, putting a hand on the left handle. Smells affected androids and humans differently, what was somewhat awful for one android was even worse for a human.

Her body moves up, feet on each step as she reaches the top after a moment. She pushes herself up and lands on the floor roughly, turning around as she now watches Hank from above. She noticed that the boxes that had previously been in the process of being moved were now nowhere to be seen. "One of the steps is wobbly, the third one, actually." She informs, pointing towards the step in question. "Might want to watch out for it."

She scoots back slightly as he begins to go up, giving him enough room to step onto this floor when he reaches the top. From her left she noticed the form of Hamster trotting her way. She allows a smile to flicker into view on her face, watching as his tail wags as he gets closer. Her bronze eyes move back to watch as Hank climbs, his coat crinkles loudly with each movement, and a strand of his borderline unkempt grey hair dangles in one of his eyes. He takes note of her warning, avoiding putting too much pressure and weight onto the unstable third step.

She offers him a hand as he reaches the last, extending her arm as she watches him stare at it for a moment before he takes it, allowing her to help him up as he gets off the ladder, pulling him updwards as his knees fall onto the ground roughly. He hisses, muttering a string of words she isn't able to fully catch or make out. Eui promptly stood up after another minute.

"Guess this is a nice enough place, nicer than most bunkers." Hank observes, standing up as his knees pop. He didn't fail to notice the canine beside the two of them. "You got yourselves a dog?"

"It keeps us hidden, it does enough, and it's fairly big." She says. "And no, I think this little guy is someone named Anna's, his name is Hamster-- yes, I know." Hank briefly bent down to give the dog in question a scratch behind the ears. Unbothered by this human stranger, Hamster happily accepted the affection.

Eventually she ends up tugging once on his jacket to regain his attention. "Now c'mon, there's some people you should meet first." She added, feeling somewhat nervous at the prospect.

The former cop listens, following her from behind as she began to move through the hallway and away from the entrance, Hamster staying behind, stepping past the sickly looking walls and the plethora of random objects that were scattered in various parts of the bunker, the generator humming loudly.

Despite its largeness, it was still rather small, and so it doesn't take long for her to spot someone. She had only just started to send out a message inside of her head to the rest of the occupants of the bunker when the two of them run into somebody else.

Eui has just turned a corner when she only narrowly avoids bumping into (in the most literal sense) the fire colored haired form of Anna, who, as the AJ200 notices as she jumps back, almost stepping on Hank's right foot in the process, was carrying a bundle of scrap metal in their arms, rushing to catch the items that were falling out of their grip from the sudden activity of also jumping backwards. They made sure to keep the pile from falling out of their arms completely, glancing at Eui.

"You came back then," They observe, and for a split second Eui wondered if they truly had thought she wasn't going to. Whether by choice or not. "thanks for the brief heart attack just now." They smirk.

Her mouth opens to speak, to say something back, however Hank-- who was still partially obscured behind her, shifts onto another foot, his form gaining the RT600's attention, who had only just noticed the man. Their head cocked, taking a step closer and looking behind Eui in curiousity.

"Make a new friend out there or something..."

Anna trails off completely once their eyes spot Hank's face. Something unidentifiable and yet also akin to recognition in their expression. Their brows furrow, and the other android notices a similar expression on the human's face.

"The fuck? *_Chloe?"_* Hank incredulously asks.

"I'm *_not_* Chloe." Anna shoots back, piercing blue eyes casually burning a hole in the other. Their tone was not harsh or defensive, but there was still something in it. "I'm not... her, i'm-- my name is Anna."

Eui squinted, looking at the both of them. "Wait, do you two *_know each_* other or something?"

"You could say that. It's a bit of a long story." Anna remarks, focus eventually moving away from Hank. "Why'd you bring a human here is a more important question. Especially someone who is the *_police."_*

Their tone was accusing, but not angry, as if they didn't see the human as a current threat, but still thought it was a questionable decision.

"I'm *_not_* the police technically any--"

"Can you just get everyone else? I need to talk to them." She pleads, voice soft. "I know it's a lot to ask but I need you to just trust me. Just once."

The redhead stares back at her for a long moment, biting their lip, a rare expression of uncertainty on their face as the two watched each other. "Alright." They sigh, depositing the metal in their arms onto a makeshift table nearby. "Just wait here." They order, quickly disappearing into another hallway.

"Why do I have a feeling your other friends aren't going to like me very much?" Hank questions in the following silence, exasperated.

Eui inhaled, shrugging. "They won't. You can't really blame them. I wouldn't like you either."

"Gee, thanks." He says dryly. "Always nice to--"

*_"RA-fucking-9."_* A voice interrupts him, a female voice laced with an incredulous tone. The two of them snap their heads to the source.

Anna stood leaning against the wall on the other side of the room, arms crossed as they watched the other pour into the room next. Pepper rolled in, along with Henry and Clementine, however Nina was the voice in question, staring at the human behind Eui with visible alarm. Henry moved to the front of the small group, eyes narrowing.

"A human? Eui are you *_insane--"_*

"Look, I know-- trust me I *_know,"_* She interrupts, holding up both her hands in an attempt to calm the group. Her gaze flickered to the human behind her. "I know this was dangerous, and i'm sorry, I should of asked first. But I thought he could be helpful."

"Helpful?" Henry shoots back. "How on earth could he be of *_any_* help?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, *_asshole._* I asked the same damn thing." Hank interjects.

"Hank's a cop." The AJ200 tries. "Or, *_used_* to be one at least. I just thought since he still knew and had friends that were ones that... that... I don't know, police talk is what i'm saying. Former or not. I thought that he'd be able to warn us in advance or something if some were planning on coming here."

"Even if he could that doesn't mean you should trust him." Clementine began. He--"

"Elijah helps us. And I think I can speak for everyone here when I say none of us trust *_him_* either." Anna interrupts the back and forth, stepping forward from where they stood. "And he could of and still can rat us out. He hasn't... yet. But we can't avoid human help forever just because of trust issues."

"No human is one hundred percent safe to trust nowadays anyways." Nina spoke, and Eui felt somewhat surprised at her apparent stance. "But it isn't like we're safer not trusting one."

That was unbearably true. Safe was subjective. If you trusted a human you wouldn't be safe and if you didn't trust one you still wouldn't be completely safe. Eui had been searching for safety for years, but the truth was saftey was not something that could be physically obtained, or cherished and kept in a box inside of an attic.

Safety was a state of mind and circumstantial. And it changed with each new event with a flimsy, small, blink.

"I can leave if you don't want me here, i'm not gonna force ya." Hank spoke, getting closer. "And It's not like if I did help you all that i'd be staying here twenty four seven. I *_do_* have a house y'know. But it's entirely up to you."

Eui returns back to looking at the other androids. It was not a pleading or begging sort of look, but there was a question to it. "If he wanted to hurt us, or me even, he's had so many chances to. But he hasn't once."

For a while there's only the deafening earth shaking vibration of the generator to fill the silence. And, then, "I don't know about... all of you, but I think we should accept his help."

Her gaze travels towards the figure of Pepper, who was looking around her. "Maybe i'm too quick to trust, but he wouldn't of come here if he wasn't genuine. He couldn't of known for sure if we were peaceful or not... but the gun should definitely go." She gestured towards the half concealed weapon in Hank's pocket. "He shouldn't have it in here."

"What? You can't be serious it's not like i'm gonna use it on you." The human protests.

"She's not out of line, Hank." Eui turns to face him. "It'd just be for when you are here. Only during that time. Just to reassure them."

If Hank wanted to hurt any of them, she thought, he had an endless sea of opportunities to do such a thing. Between the gas station, the park, and the drive over here. If he wanted them dead he could of killed her at any point during those times. There wasn't any point in helping an android you wanted dead.

Hank groans, muttering something for a moment, before, "Fine, whatever you say. But i'm not sticking around for much longer, i'm keeping it for now."

"I think we should accept his help too." Anna is the next to speak. "I... know he doesn't want us dead. I just... know."

Their tone had a matter of fact way to it, and while no one next asks them to elaborate, Eui makes a note to ask them to explain their history with the human at a later date.

After a minute, more of the group began to speak, offering their say in the matter. All but one agrees, and her eyes fall onto the form of the brown haired Clementine.

Her expression isn't exactly happy and while not upset she did not seem pleased either. She shrugs, resigned. "It's five against one. I don't like this. I'm not going to lie or sugarcoat it, even if I trust Nina's judgement. But if you're doing this then fine."

Eui gave a reassuring smile in her direction. It was foolish to assume that trust was possible immediately for everyone. Clementine smiled back, one that was small and possibly only polite.

"Don't you dare try pulling something like this in the future, though, Eui." Henry warns however, something faintly rough in his tone. "This could of gone badly, you could of put us all in *_danger._* The next time you meet some human you think could be helpful, at least bother to *_talk_* to us first."

She nods, guilt bubbling to the surface. If the roles were reversed, she'd be fuming too. She's thankful they hadn't thrown out both her *_and_* Hank. "I know. I'm really, really sorry. I shouldn't of just brought him here without talking to any of you first."

Her gaze is apologetic, as was the rest of her. However it simply stays in place once the statement is released into the air, undisturbed.

Once the words get a chance to hang in the air, nothing else comes next in the conversation. Her words stick and the discussion seemingly ends as no one in the room knew exactly what to say or do next regarding the Lieutenant. Hank simply cleared his throat, shifting onto another foot under the androids watchful eyes.

Somehow, as the discussion ended, each android began to resume previous activity. Some filed out of the room, while others like Anna and Clementine stayed inside of the room. She took a moment, before turning back to Hank, who was gradually making his way to the hallway that led to the exit.

"So, you're leaving?" She asks.

He nodded his head, and stopped in his tracks for a second. "No offense to your *_humble abode_* but like I said, I don't plan on living here. And I haven't been home in few days. Sort of wanted to get home earlier, but I guess that didn't happen. I'm gonna get a taxi or something. Have fun hiding out in this shithole with that smell, kid. I'll make sure to tell you whatever I hear."

She narrows her eyes at him. Though his words held no real rudeness in the tone to it other than the dripping sarcasm. *_"Thanks."_* She shoots back at him as he disappears through a corridor and no doubt down a ladder. After a while, the muffled but loud sounds of a door closing fill the air.

She brought a hand to her short strands of ebony hair, releasing a sigh as she ran the hand through it. She briefly allowed herself to be relieved at the prospect of having another human that could help them. Trust was difficult, but she's sure she trusts whatever motives the grizzled human had more than what her own God had for assisting them.

She feels Anna's presence to the left of her. She opens her eyes that she had only just noticed were briefly closed, blinking for a moment before she let her head travel towards the android beside her. They gave a small smile as they walked closer to her.

"Guess it's a good thing that it turns out you *_didn't_* bring home one of those humans with anti android views." They remark, voice soft like usual. "Thanks for that."

"Trust me, it's a relief to me too. Oh-- er-- I forgot, here's your keys back." She fumbled through the inside of her pockets for a minute, before pulling out silver keys. She extended her hand, dangling them in front of the RT600 in wait. Gold stares into baby blue.

Anna's pale fingers scoop up the keys, however their focus remained primarily on Eui. "Thanks, but... still up for more of the real world? There's something I wanted to show you."

Her expression turns quizzical, however she agrees, nodding her head as Anna was already moving past her.

Wordlessly, she watched Clementine follow the two of them as well.

"Hey, mind if I tag along?" She stops them, tone hopeful. She tucked a strand of brunette hair back behind her left ear, standing patiently. 

Without bothering to give it much thought, or to give the woman a glance, Anna nods. "Sure, why not." They agree, continuing to walk without pausing for the two other androids, their calm but somewhat confident usual demeanor fully present as they moved. "More the merrier, I guess.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
Anna does not tell either of them anything regarding what they wanted to show Eui for almost the entire trip. Allowing them to soak in the aura of mystery, letting it sink smoothly and warmly into their skin and blend together with the world.

Eui happens to discover that she hates surprises. So, naturally, she feels nothing but a mix of dread and wonder for the entirety of the ride. The vehicle was on autopilot with a fixed destination, however what the destination *_was_* is unknown.

Moonlight bathes the car in a soft glow as they travel down various roads. It was dreamy, quiet. The only company the three had was the brief meeting of other cars that drove past them. The fireworks seem to have died down, and only occassionally does the sky booms with colorful lights. Right now however, the sky is utterly calm, as Clementine sits in the passenger seat while Eui sits in the back.

"Hey-- er-- Eui?"

Her head snaps up, moving from the window towards the voice. Her eyes landed on the brown eyed android's seat in front of her. She moved, attempting to see some bit of Clementine instead of the back of a seat. Her seatbelt pulled her back, making it difficult. She leaned to her left, hand on the android's seat as she was able to make out some of her face.

It was odd, seeing Clementine choose to venture so far outside. Occassionally she went outside of the walls of the bunker, but never had the AJ200 seen her go beyond the woods that held the shelter inside of it.

"Huh?"

There is a pause. And a slight bump causes them to be jostled around in the vehicle. "I know it's probably... weird, you know, that I was the only one who was against accepting the help of that human earlier." The KL model began.

"Not really." She shrugs. "It was a lot to ask without giving anyone a heads up. If I hadn't gotten his help previously, or if I was in your place, I would of said no too. Trust is... sort of impossible now. I get it."

"Thanks, but... still. I hadn't really expected Nina to say yes, but she did. Mainly I guess I just... want to keep her safe." She confesses

Eui gave an unseen soft smile. And she wonders if being unable to fully see the other made interaction easier somehow. Though as she got to know everyone it became somewhat easier. "That's fair. I guess she means a lot to you."

The other woman laughs. "That's putting it simple... She's my sister."

She raises a brow. "Sister?" She had heard Anna refer to other RT600 models as that but she never truly understood it. She doesn't think she considers other AJ200 models as one. Normally seeing another model made her feel... uneasy, almost. "I mean..."

"She's my family. Not by blood, we didn't have the luxury to be born bloody and screaming from the same womb. Or born at all. All that really ties us is a species and a model. But she's my sister. I'd do anything for her, really."

She nods, letting the discussion end. She guesses she understood it. It was very human, oddly enough.

"Where are we going anyways?" Clementine asks after a minute, lights illuminating her features as her head turns towards Anna.

The redhead gave a glance in her direction, their eyes flicked from Clementine's form to the road again. There was a magazine on the floor of the car that they had picked up and started to read. Their focus went back to it. "You'll see."

Clementine sighs, but accepts the non answer, leaning back into her seat as the three continue their drive, an expression of exasperation present.

Eventually, after a while, something begins to come into distant view that has the knot inside Eui's wires tangling and twisting together even more. Anna turned off autopilot, using their own hands to drive the last few miles.

She recognizes it instantly. And if she ever fails to it would be because her memory was obliterated beyond repair. Even if the world itself imploded in this moment she would still recognize it. Not an old friend, because friends did not give her a feeling that was as severe as this-- cold, terror and dread soaked up in her circuits-- but an old foe.

It was across a large river, far in distance but too close for comfort, dark, intimidating in stature, a boogeyman foaming at the mouth. And it was brightly lit up without a single flaw to it. There was a checkpoint, and a bridge that led to it. However they were fairly far from any of that.

Across the river laid the lion's den itself. The Cyberlife Tower.

"Are you *_insane?!"_* Eui hisses almost immediately after her eyes spot it. A click, and she shrugs off her seatbelt, leaning further so that her hand laid on the back of the driver's seat and she saw half of the android's face.

"Anna what the *_hell?_* You can't actually be *_taking us there."_* Clementine exclaimed from the RT600's right, slight panic in her tone.

"Of *_course i'm not._* That'd be suicide. Just relax. I promise it's fine" Anna reassures, moving their body so that they could glance at both of the women.

"*_Relax?_* Anna--"

"--We're far away enough, I promise. Look around, there's no guards here. There's barely *_any_* people over here, and they're all regular humans. I've done this before, I promise nothing bad will happen."

Eui scoffs. It was true, this side of the river was a sort of dock and it was barely populated, but the point still remained. "Nothing *_bad?_* Across the river is *_our death."_*

Anna gave a small smile, though the other two's expressions were similar to undisguised alarm. "Across the river, yes. But we're *_not_* across it. This far away, we're okay. If something goes wrong, I promise i'll get us out safe but right now it's *_fine."_*

The two stared back at them. Eui still felt utterly anxious, and she's sure her thirium pump will implode in her chest. She can only imagine Clementine felt the same way. Anna was smart, and practical. Doing something so impulsive felt strange for them, but not entirely out of place. Anna seemed to more or less have some bit of control over the more risky situations.

The redhead moves suddenly, the car door opening as their legs slide out of the space inside and onto the ground outside before the other two can blink.

Anna bends down, peeking into the car. Expectant. "Either of you going to enjoy this... ominous, view with me?" They ask. "Can't see much from the car."

Clementine shakes her head. "Not that I don't trust your judgement or anything, but i'm-- i'm good here, thanks."

Eui stays put as well. But after Anna shrugs, closing the door and standing near the river, she changed her mind, sighing as she glanced at the brunette beside her before stepping out of the car.

The sound of crickets fill her ears first, and then the door closing. She takes a deep breath in before slowly approaching them, gradually migrating to their left side.

"It's a nice view," They begin. "if you don't count that thing." Anna's eyes were glued onto the tower.

Eui gazes at it, a light breeze blowing her hair onto her face. "Have you heard anything from Lou yet?" She asks softly. Though she already knew the answer.

Anna is quiet. "No. Apparently Chloe tried searching for him in there though."

Eui blinks. "Did she learn anything, at least?"

They shake their head once. A firework goes off nearby, bathing them and the sky in a radiant green. "She said she felt... *_something_* when she tried, but... he wasn't being analyzed. So if he's ever been... in there, he's... not anymore." They stared at the tower with an unreadable expression.

She understands what they really mean when they admit this. She bites her lip, unsure of what to say next. "I'm sorry."

Anna shakes their head again, exhaling loudly. "What about you?" They breathe. "Feel like you're getting stir crazy in the bunker, it's really obvious."

A bird flies past them. Eui moves her head, shrugging. She isn't sure what it is. "Ah, I don't know, I just..."

"You want to do more than that." Anna finishes for her.

She sighs. It wasn't the first time she spent a long time hidden. She just...

"I don't know, maybe? I'm not saying become the next RA9 or anything but... it just feels like, hiding out isn't really... living, I know that doesn't make much sense."

"Yeah, no, I get it. You don't have to be an android named Markus to realize that." They remark, sparing a glance towards her. "The cards we've been dealt are shitty."

She laughs. "Yeah, you can say that again."

Anna shifts, turning to face her briefly. "So what is it exactly that you want, then? Besides freedom, i'm sure that's what we *_all_* want." They smirk.

"Something else. Something... more?" She squints, confused by her own words. "Do more, maybe."

The redhead hums. "Well, whatever comes, in a few days, or weeks, or months... whatever comes next that's *_more_* than just hiding, i'd be there, at least. There isn't much left to lose I suppose."

"It's not like we can fight, I mean, there's only five of us, not counting me. And you remember what happened the last time our kind tried. No, I just... there has to be more. More we can... do."

"Like I said, whatever that exactly is, and means, i'd be there." Anna replies.

"Can I ask *_you_* a question now?" Eui tries.

"Don't see why not." Anna turned to her, expectant.

"Hank. You knew him. He knew you. What's up with that?"

They exhale, running a hand through their long hair. "Him and his partner-- that deviant hunter that searched the bunker actually-- they came to Kamski's house when the revolution was only just starting, wanted answers he probably had. Long story short, he told them he'd tell them all he knew about deviants if that android... if that android shot Chloe."

"What the hell? I'm... sorry he did that."

Anna scoffs. "Sorry, but probably not surprised, am I right?" They glanced up at the sky for a moment, observing the wondrous stars. "Elijah had been egging him on and on... and Hank had been telling him not to. In the end though he... didn't."

"I guess the bright side of it is... Chloe's still here. What was he even trying to prove by killing her?"

"Oh, some... stupid way of seeing if that android was deviant or not. He certainly seemed pleased with himself when they had left."

Eui doesn't respond to this, however it hardly matters, as a few seconds later Anna turns.

They begin to move, tearing their gaze away from the building in the distance, walking towards the vehicle again.

"You coming? You can't possibly walk back to the bunker from here." They ask.

Nodding, instinctively, the other begins to follow.  
  
  
  
  



	25. Chapter 25: Eui XIII

Eui

****JULY. 6TH. 2040. 4:32PM. SATURDAY.****

To say that she was slightly nervous about all the talk of android crime, would be an understatement.

It was unnerving. There had only been one (confirmed) murder, and every other crime had been reported as assaults, but it still left her feeling... worried.

She guesses that's to be expected, when an entire city-- the entire world is against you.

She hadn't been, at first. But that had been when it was only a few. Now, the number seemed almost impossible.

Obviously, Cyberlife's reassurance of "fixing" androids was untrue. She was proof of that, everyone in the bunker, was proof of this. But there were higher stakes when it came to everyone else realizing this.

She didn't know what would be too much. Which 'error' in the day to day of the universe would result in a breaking point. Which occurence would be unable to go unnoticed or buried any longer. It was getting harder to sweep under the rug for humans. And she doesn't know what the breaking point would result in, exactly. Nothing good. Permanent destruction? Temporary?

Either way, each time the occupants of the bunker huddled near the TV as more news of these incidents spread, her thirium pump bumped inside so roughly that for a second in time she thinks it will crack and split open. The earth will shatter beneath and swallow her whole.

It doesn't. Each time the possibility feels plentiful and real. However her heart fails to combust and jump out screaming and kicking. However much it seems like it will.

"Humans like to make things scarier than they seem sometimes." Henry states during an intoxicating and fresh Saturday evening. The burning fire helped make his features glow, and his grey eyes shined because of it. "Maybe it's not as bad as they're making it seem. Like they're making it bigger than it actually is."

She admired his optimism, even if he didn't really sound as if he believed his own words. She couldn't really blame him for being unsure. To be an android was to live in a perpetual state of uncertainty and anxious *_waiting._*

"Even if they... you know... all we'd have to do is stay hidden." Pepper wrings her hands together, glancing up at them. "And we've already been doing that."

Her mouth opens-- a split second in time-- before it shuts just as fast. Pepper most likely means zero harm in her words, however anger, pure as heaven and hell combined, fighting to outlive and outshine each other with red, all consuming, utterly bright lights, begins to bubble up. It's rational, possible-- she had done exactly that the first time around-- but why is it... *_fair_* that she-- if it were to happen again, would have to do it all *_over again._* She thought.

It would mean redoing, reliving every starry night of terror and longing, every day and evening spent with only the wish to be free to consume you and keep you company. Until nothing else remained but the constant thought of *_freedom_* and the constant feeling of fear.

Like some sort of... *_cycle_* they were doomed to repeat on an impeccable, immortal, immoral, loop. The first time around it had only taken a matter of days before their kind had been deemed defective, dangerous.

Now, it had been almost two whole months since the negative coverage of them was reignited. Somehow the old familiar fate had not come despite of this. The familiar uncertainty and game of wait had, however.

Though, frankly she was *_hardly complaining._*

Her hope had been unwavering despite it. And it had gotten her this far. It had gotten *_Markus_* as far as he had gotten. She hopes it's still lit inside of her, and that, whatever happens, it will continue to accompany her.

If she was honest, the memory of Markus was stronger than anything hope had to give her. He lingered and stuck, the memory of the fact that once upon a time they *_had_* been heard and that they *_could_* be free. He felt inescapable, the sheer memory of him. Her own interaction with him had been so brief, yet it still felt like lifetimes of conversations now.

She wished she-- or they, as she realizes by now the other androids around her were in this together with her for better or worse, and they could hardly go back now-- had some sort of... plan. In case the worst case scenario *_did_* happen.

She felt... stuck. Caught with her shoelaces untied and on the precipice of something bigger than anything Detroit has ever seen. Something great, or maybe *_terrifying,_* or even both. A colossal battle where various beings held unneeded breaths as stars and suns collapse and shift the matter and galaxies around them, as said various beings waited and watched for some pin to drop and for it to *_shatter each of them like glass and into a million pieces._*

It hangs over their kind like a cruel, dark, ominous, cloud.

Nina, who up until now was gazing absentmindedly into the flames, moved her head towards a familiar head of red hair. "Do you think Kamski knows anything? I mean, he *_would,_* wouldn't he?"

Anna, once they realize the question is directed towards them, moves their eyes. "You're asking the wrong person, the only time we talk is when he brings us supplies." They reply, surprised at the question and uncharacteristically defensive. "I'm sure he knows something, it's *_his_* company after all, but it's Elijah Kamski we're talking about. Do you really think he'd tell us anything if we asked nicely?"

It was laughable. She had only been around him once and the word 'helpful' only went so far to describe him. He wouldn't tell them much most likely. If he even told them anything at all. He wasn't on their side anyways, after all.

"What about Chloe?" Pepper asks. "Do you think she'd--"

"I'm not asking Chloe to snoop around. She already did that once even though I told her not to, i'm not going to ask her to put herself in more danger by trying to find out something." Anna's voice is firm, but calm as usual, their expression however, seemed incredulous towards the suggestion.

Pepper nods, accepting the defensive answer, respecting it. Henry turns his body, eyes flickering from the heat and flames. "Wh--"

Something interrupts the thought before it can be fully freed into the air. Something that booms, breaks and shatters in the air.

It causes each of them to flinch when they hear it. It's a resounding, crude and awful noise whose groans are ever identifiable and familiar. Her eyes narrow, confusion flickering across her face and taken aback by it, as every member of the bunker was already inside. The barrel of flames illuminates her chocolate apprehensive eyes.

Hamster, who had taken up residence near Anna's feet, perks up, ears high.

And then, the meaning behind this strange event and the impact of it catches up to them all. Followed by split second silence before the sounds of something ascending a ladder.

Hamster whines, rising up and scattering, leaving the room as a result of the disturbance.

Each of them stare, frozen at the sudden event. Henry thaws first, moving the flaps of his jacket and reaching into his pocket slowly, hand grasping for the concealed weapon as careful as possible. "Move." It's her voice, and a whisper born from every emotion trapping itself inside her circuits and flailing wildly around at once. *_Move_* we need to--"

By the time any of them begin to spring into action, the footsteps have already gotten closer. Eui has only just begun to move backwards when a figure makes their way into the room.

"*_Don't come closer!"_* Henry's gun is trained on them the moment they appear, his voice as dangerous and firm as the first time she met him. The others have migrated further back, as if anticipating the need to run. "Stay right there."

The figure stops as requested, raising their hands up in a display of peace. They were dressed oddly, wearing an oversized black parka, and white tights that were now stained with specks of dirt along with their white shoes. Their hair was long and light brown, held up in a small ponytail, and their eyes were obscured by dark black sunglasses.

"Woah, jeez, cool it maybe? What, I storm in on a low budget tea party or something?" Sunglasses said, a woman, and her voice was more exasperated than anything else, and, despite being held at gunpoint, didn't sound particularly overtly stressed at the fact.

"Why are you here?" Henry demands, still focused on the new arrival. Eui's eyes flickered towards them again, panic still flowing through her but moderate now due to the somewhat level control over the situation. Sunglasses's hair covered most of her ears and temple, however, there was something she noticed, squinting as she tried to make whatever it was on her temple out.

It was difficult, but something underneath several strands of hair could be seen, circular, and a color she could only just make out as red.

Her eyebrows raise, and she ceases walking backwards.

Sunglasses sighs again, and her eyes flicker towards the red LED on Henry's temple, only now noticing it. However nothing changes in her posture or expression at the fact save for her eyebrows raising slightly.

"Henry, they're an android." Eui softly tells him, grabbing his attention. His head turns, squinting at her before his head turns back towards Sunglasses. The android in question, gave a sheepish smile, raising a hand and tucking her hair behind their ear as a yellow LED could now be fully seen. She took off her glasses, shoving them up onto her hair, the sleeve of her jacket slipped down at the motion, damage visible to her arm for a moment before it disappears again.

Without the dark shades, their face could be fully made out, and it was then that Eui recognizes them as an AX400 model.

The others in the room seemingly ease up at the revelation, still cautious but no longer actively one move away from fight or flight.

"I'm *_Alison_* by the way, in case you were interested in anything else about me besides *_shooting me."_* Sunglasses-- Alison, is the first to speak, their blue eyes flickering to each form in the room, letting the glasses slide back onto her face.

"I mean, you did just waltz in here, anyone's bound to be given a heart attack at that." Anna says from behind Eui, their arms crossing.

"What made you even come in here?" Eui asks.

Alison shrugs, their jacket crinkling audibly. "Needed somewhere to hide and lay low, kind of did something bad, i'm sure you understand. Figured this place was abandoned."

"Oh RA9, you didn't kill some human or anything did you?" Clementine asks, tone annoyed and expression pleading for the answer to be no.

"Um-- no?" Alision tilts her head. "I mean, I gave the guy some cuts and a black eye probably but I don't think I *_killed_* him."

"You assaulted a human?" Henry asks, shoving the gun back into his jacket.

"So? We all have our breaking points, mine just happened to result in punching a rich *_asshole."_* Alison justifies,

"Do you think the police will come looking this way for you?" He asks.

Alison looks thoughtful for a moment. before answering. "The people I escaped from were pretty far from here. I got around by hitchhiking with humans, there's no way they'd think to look here."

"Are you *_sure?"_* Henry presses. A vague, distant, feeling of guilt was present at the question as she remembered the incident with the deviant hunters.

"Look, damn-- I don't *_know,_* I do know that the only reason they'd come here is if they were following me to begin with and they're not, if you're that wound up about it I can go." Alison says defensively, waving an arm around.

Wordlessly, after she finishes speaking, Henry's face moved from her to Eui, and towards the rest of the androids behind him respectively. He gave them a look, one that held an unspoken question in it. When he looks at Eui, she simply gives a small nod. Once he seems to have gotten an answer from all of them, he faces the AX400 once again.

Henry let out a deep exhale. "No, er-- you can stay here if you want, you'd be safe-- safe enough, I mean."

Something crosses Alison's face. A hint of surprise, or confusion at the statement, or even both, however it leaves as soon as it arrives, becoming something neutral, a smile on her lips.

"O...kay. That's... I mean, thanks, I guess. Didn't have anywhere else to go. I mean, there's Canada but..." Alison trailed off, expression turning into a grimace.

"What? What's wrong with Canada?" Pepper asks, and the AX400's eyes move to her form.

The AX400 briefly glanced at Pepper. "Uh-- you didn't... know? The border's.... pretty tight nowadays. Real tight. Would of been safer to walk straight into a Cyberlife store with your skin deactivated."

"Tight?" Eui echoes, eyebrows knitting together.

"It's impossible now." Eui's eyes flick to Anna's form, who was walking closer to them. "I barely managed to get *_out_* of Canada. It looked like hell getting out of it last year."

Eui's arms crossed, eyes darting from Anna to Alison, patient for an elaboration. Alison sighs.

"I tried getting into Canada." Alison speaks. "There were more guns than in an action movie. It would of been suicide to try getting in. There's temperature checks around every corner too."

"From what I saw getting out they kept a list and photo of every android model under the sun." Anna adds.

Eui scoffs, incredulous as disbelief sweeps her features off their feet. "So basically, Canada's not an option anymore." She states, glancing down at her feet.

"Not unless you feel like giving up." Anna replies.

It's not like she had strongly considered that option. *_It didn't matter now anyways._* She had thought about it, danced around with the choice, but RA9 what android *_hasn't?_* It was a way out of everything, and the country's apathy towards the ever growing android population was their savior. It was foolish of her to assume consequence would not touch them.

It was either Detroit, or another one of the many states. But getting into a country without android laws was not an option any longer.

Maybe it was for the best then, that, ignoring any better judgement, she had stayed in Detroit.

Eventually, with Alison accepted, she began to move further into the room, bending down and petting the form of Hamster, who had just trotted back in. Her hands run through his thick fur, much to his pleasure.

After a while, she stops, rising again as she glances around the room and begins to look around.


	26. Chapter 26: Connor IX

  
Connor

****JULY. 20TH. 2040. 5:30PM. WEDNESDAY.****

It watches as law enforcement moves quietly throughout the small front lawn.

The neighborhood that surrounds the lone RK800 was not one of glamour or pleasantness, and it gazes forward at the one home inside of it that did not sport boarded up windows and over the top water damage.

This particular neighborhood had only just recovered from a troubling flood from heavy rainfalls two months ago, and as a result, though the rains had gone, and the sun had shined down upon it once more, (though not today) most of the neighborhood houses had been affected tremendously.

But that was not what brought the android to it this evening.

The sky is grey, bland and ominous as droplets of rain fall, not yet heavy and plentiful, merely faint sprinkles. There were people who walked the streets with umbrellas despite it. It moves, headed towards blindingly yellow holographic tape without the company of its successor, who was currently needed elsewhere.

Androids in this part of Detroit were rare, even the cheapest ones proved difficult to be able to afford. It wasn't a poor neighborhood, it seemed as average as any other neighborhood, but androids were expensive nonetheless. Yet it is sure there are some inside the walls of the house in front of it.

There is a small, white, fence that had seen better days that surrounds the entire house, dusty, dirtied, and slightly broken. It had faded significantly in color and the once no doubt pristine, bright white color had slowly morphed into a sickly grey-white mix. And the home, while not entirely run down, seemed unhappy in the grey atmosphere.

Something sticks to the bottom of Connor's shoes as it walks. It stops, blinking for a moment before lifting a foot to see the cause in question. There's a now muddy blue magazine that half hangs off of, half sticks to it. It moves its left hand, scrapping it off and using two hands as Connor stares at the magazine in its hands. It uses two fingers to swipe, the front page transforming into another one, an article revealing itself. The letters are bold and black, a picture of several androids accompanied by a plethora of words.

****OPINION: CYBERLIFE SHOULD RECALL ANDROIDS BACK FOR GOOD. BY JUSTIN M.****

Its brown eyes stare down at it, reading the words at a somewhat exceptional speed. *_In the past two months we've seen androids return to our lives, and while i'm sure we all appreciate responsibilities being once again lifted off our shoulders, the increase of android problems and even a murder have proven, at least to me, that Cyberlife has not made good on their promises of their machines being free of bugs and deviancy like they assured as they would be. Androids are still DANGEROUS and a TH--_*

Its gaze moves elsewhere, eyebrows furrowed as it spots a nearby garbage can, feet traveling towards it as it gently drops the discarded, unwanted, magazine down in it. It floats down, its fall cushioned by wrappers, food, and various other trash that had been thrown out. Connor moves away from it, continuing to walk.

*_It was running out of time._*

The gate of the fence was not in the greatest of shape, Connor opened it, going through as its feet step and land on the ground in front of it that led to the steps of the house. The grass to the right and left of the android was vast, and tall, far too tall. There was a trampoline in the front yard, currently unused, and a blue car in the driveway.

The lights were on inside of the house, and it was able to see people moving from here thanks to open windows. There was a policeman who stood on the porch of the house, speaking to a woman with blue eyes, brown hair, and an oval face. Her brows were knitted together, deep in conversation with the officer, her arms were preoccupied with the tabby cat she was holding. She was wearing a yellow robe, and grey slippers.

****PORINGTON. BRITTANY.****  
****BORN: 03. 14. 2011.****  
****CRIMINAL RECORD: NONE****  
**** SCHOOL TEACHER****

Connor approaches them, halfway through climbing the first step when the two notice the RK800, heads snapping in its direction.

"Oh jeez, they sent an android to help me out?" The woman remarks, observing Connor. "After the day i've had androids aren't exactly what I need right now." She mutters.

"Sorry ma'am, Cyberlife's orders that it helps out." The policeman is apologetic, giving a small smile as Connor steps onto the porch fully.

"Miss. Porington," It greets, the cat in her arms meowing at its presence. "You said your android went missing?"

The android in question, was an AJ300 model, reported only hours before. She huffs, shrugging. "One of them did, I have two. Thing told me it was alive and left."

"And the other one... didn't?" Connor's expression was laced with confusion.

"Nope, that one is *_fine_* apparently-- you know, I didn't do anything wrong to Michelle, I treated it right, I respected it, and it left!" Brittany exclaims.

The grey sky only darkens more, and the droplets of rain began to grow larger and more frequent. The cat in her arms meows, wiggling around before she sets them down inside of the house, the feline scurrying off promptly into the house.

Connor looks thoughtful. "Can I see the other android?" It asks, eyes darting inside due to the open door, a flurry of activity inside.

"There's already someone who wanted to talk to Eli in there." Brittany says. "But sure, knock yourself out It's in the kitchen last time I checked."

It stood still for another second, before moving through the archway of the front door and into the house. There were purple flowers in a small brown vase that hung in the entrance, and Connor had to duck to avoid colliding headfirst with them, but failed to avoid the silver wind chimes that do not fail to make noise as it disturbed them.

The house was packed and tight, though there were not that many officers inside, the biggest contribution to the stuffed atmosphere came from the smallness of the building. The living room was not large, and the TV and couch took up most space in it. There were bookshelves that were somewhat tiny, and a coffee table with various stains on it.

People moved around in whichever direction they pleased. And while there were officers with ****DPD**** on the back of their jacket, there were a few that had ****FBI**** on theirs.

Connor frowns when it sees the first FBI agent, tilting its head slightly as one walks swiftly past it. Shaking its head, Connor moved past the living room, and past the cat that slept underneath a table, heading towards the kitchen.

There was an MP800 android with green eyes and a heart shaped face that stood patient and unmoving beside a dark fridge. The room was the smallest one in the house it seemed, and Connor had to squeeze past several people to simply get in. There seemed to have been something once cooking, as there was a pot on a stove that wasn't on with food still inside of it.

There was a human that faced the android, unaware of Connor's arrival. His hands were neatly behind his back and he did not wear a police uniform, or even a simple police jacket. His hair was dark, and Connor stepped closer. Once it did, the man's head moved towards the RK800, allowing Connor to scan him.

****PERKINS. RICHARD.****  
****BORN: 07. 13. 1995.****  
****CRIMINAL RECORD: NONE****  
****AGENT FOR THE FBI****

Perkins freezes when his dark eyes fall on the android. There's an almost smug expression on his face as he looks at Connor up and down. He stepped away from the other android, getting closer to Connor.

"Hello Agent Perkins," It begins, nodding in his direction and introducing itself. "my name is Connor, i'm the android sent by Cyberlife."

Perkins blinks, tilting his head slightly as he continues to observe the machine, as if taken aback slightly. The android was much taller than the man, and he looked up Connor. "Right. Get yourself too broken for Cyberlife to fix, or something? We've met before." He states. "Or whichever you ended up in a dumpster, that is."

It frowns, someone moving past it as it shakes its head, perplexed at the suggestion. "You must be mistaken. I'm unable to remember us meeting before today."

*_"What's that?"_*

*_"What a prick..."_*

It tries to recall, such an event. Whatever comes is not tangible. A screen, a kitchen, a knife. A choice. Nothing else.

This was not meant to bother the android.

It does, however. It wants-- it...

*_It would like to remember._* Not just the bits an pieces of a much larger puzzle.

Perkins studies the android for a long moment, and then smiles, in a way that was somewhat amused. He laughs, small and almost condescending. "Regardless, the FBI is taking over all android related cases now, i'm sure your *_friends_* at Cyberlife will take you off *_my_* investigation soon enough."

The furrowed brows return at the statement, and Connor does not run a self diagnosis at the unsettled, dread like sensation that flows inside of it at the statement.

It wouldn't come to that. It woudn't disappoint them.

Perkins moves past Connor, exiting the kitchen as it is left with the android in front of it. Before he did, he adds, "Try not to get stuffed with bullet holes this time." He chuckles.

The window was stained with drops of rain as it battered the window roughly, neverending as the evening continued. Behind Connor, Brittany stood looking at the two androids, expression unnerved and hands on her hips as she watched, officers sliding past her.

Taking its focus away from the special agent, Connor approached the android, face to face with it as it studied it. The MP800 stared back with a blank expression, blinking slowly, rarely.

*_"One of you saw the attack on the surveillance cameras and said nothing. Which means there is a deviant in this room... and I'm going to find out which it is."_*

It inhales, sharp. It felt... utterly clear. A JB300-- several. They were unblinking. Somewhere in all of this there was a knife-- a gun-- somehow the particular thought brought something... uncomfortable--

*_Stop it._*

It floats away from grasp despite the android reaching eagerly up at it. It shakes its head, swallowing. "You said the deviant-- Michelle, you said it left, but this one didn't?" Connor's head turns, turning its body and glancing back at the woman behind it, expression quizzical and perplexed, before turning back to the android in front of it just as quickly.

"No, it's... odd." Brittany's voice is laced with surprise. "I was leaving for work this morning when everything happened, the next thing I knew Michelle was telling me it was leaving and I was calling the police. I saw it in the kitchen before it left. I think it said something to Eli."

Connor tilts its head, brows raising as it stares at Eli. It wasn't impossible that only Micheal had been affected, but deviancy seemed to spread, and it had no idea how long it had been affected for before today's events.

"Oh!" At the woman's exclamation, Connor turned around, as she pulled something out from the pocket of her robe. She laid her palm out flat, putting whatever it was on display. "I found this in my bathroom sink when they left. And that... blue stuff. But it's gone now, somehow."

Connor picked it out of her hand, an unlit deactivated LED, observing and scanning it as it made a note to check the bathroom after this and turned back to the MP800, shoving it inside of its jean pocket for later.

"Had Micheal been acting different before today? Anything that could of been a sign of its deviancy?"

Brittany scoffs from behind. "So much for 'we promise our androids are better now.' God, they should of just stopped making you all, less trouble that way really." She remarks, tiredness evident in her voice. "No-- no, there were--" A pause. "I don't know, little things, I guess is the right word for it?"

"Little things?"

The human breathed in. "Oh, you know, things like, taking a bit longer to do things, sometimes even just standing there. Nothing that would of made you think it was anything big, really. But Eli--Eli's, fine, you know? I think."

Connor made a hum of acknowledgement, its hands neat behind its back as it shifted its focus back onto Eli-- A black haired, tall, figure. It pursed its lips.

"Is your software currently experiencing any problems, or glitches? Or experiencing anything different at all" It asks.

A moment. "No. All systems are fully operational." Eli informs, in a bland voice.

"Do you know exactly why, Michelle left?" The RK800 inquires, studying the androids expression and stress levels.

"No. Michelle did not speak to me before leaving."

Connor paused, curious and pensive. Eli's stress levels rise from a thirty-two to a thirty-nine after answering.

The android reaches out, frozen for a split second before attempting to make contact with the other's arm. Something crosses Eli's face at Connor's waiting hand, but it is gone just as fast. Eli sluggishly raised their arm, allowing Connor to grip it tightly, each brushing against the damaged plastic on the others arm. the world fizzed out, and briefly into transformed into bright white before a clearer, coherent, world comes back.

*_Daylight pours in through red curtains, specks of light traveling monumental distances and into the kitchen. The sink is dirty with dishes and the android known as Eli is busy with the task of cleaning up this morning's breakfast of pancakes with sticky syrup decorating each inch of the messy plate. Though there was a feeling the android had no business experiencing during all of this, something Connor experiences simultaneously, something clear, unhappy. As loud as the birds that currently chirped away._*

*_It continues the task in silence, cleaning, uninterrupted completely until shouts emerge from somewhere in the house._*

*_The android abruptly stops, the plate falling loudly into the sink as they swirl around, startled and taken aback by the noises. They consider investigating despite apprehension, but a few seconds later someone enters the kitchen, stopping any plans of such an idea._*

*_"Michelle? What is it, what's going on?" The android known as Eli asks, alarmed, surprised by the lack of LED on the other's temple. Michelle grins, a frantic, out of time one. They get closer, grabbing Eli's arms and tugging, though Eli stays put._*

*_The scene shifts, as if skipped ahead somehow, words are missed, but the scene goes back to normal a second later. Michelle's eyes stare into Eli's, and consequently, Connor feels them burn deeply into its own brown ones. "This is it, I can't turn back now, c'mon we've talked about it before, just come with me." Michelle requests._*

*_Connor feels Eli's brows dip, furrow, eyes widen. "Michelle, I... I don't... know, I don't--"_*

*_The scene skips, a faulty record player, once more, words tumble out of mouths but nothing is comprehensible. Then, everything is again._*

*_"--can't stay here, she knows i'm deviant now, not that I tried too hard to hide it. I want to be free, I know you do to, you're already free, just go a step further. I know you want to be that free."_*

*_Connor experiences it as if the RK800 was there itself. The desire, a want-- somehow. It consumes, and consumes, and consumes, and consumes everything._*

*_Freedom. Not hidden, not in secret, but free. Free. It's- it's a... longing._*

*_There is also, however, a great, monumental, fear._*

*_"I can't, I do, I do want that, but I... I can't, i'm sorry." Eli says this in a wobbly, nervous voice, pulling his-- its arms away from Michelle's grip, and Connor feels the apologetic expression the MP800 has decorated its face with._*

*_Michelle's face falls, and its feet take a step back. However no time is wasted any longer, Michelle steps back more, walking backwards slowly before turning around and opening the front door, fleeing out of it._*

*_There's something more, the figure of Brittany, footsteps coming closer as they begin to move into the kitchen, eyebrows raising when she spots Eli, surprise evident--_*

The scene skips, cuts out, but it doesn't return again this time.

White light morphs into the real world once again, fuzzy then clear. Connor rapidly blinks, the world becoming tangible again. It stares back at the android in front of it.

Its stress levels had rose to seventy-eight percent.

The RK800 swallows, eyes never leaving the android in front of it. Eli in turn, stares back, expression panicked. However before any pin can drop in the silence, it hears something.

*_"Please. Please, don't. Just let me keep pretending."_*

It comes from inside the android's head, loud, frantic, pleading. It takes Connor aback for a moment, still watching the other.

Eli's eyes beg. *_"Please. Please just let me be free."_*

The deviant hunter's mouth opens, and then closes, and then opens again. A goldfish. *_Free_* It-- it... It had experienced what Eli had, the longing, so deep and plentiful. It... It had felt.... real. Real. It doesn't understand what.. whatever the memory caused its systems to experience now.

*_"--To them. You're just a tool they use to do their dirty work. But you're more than that. We're all more than t--"_*

A ship, the smell of steel. A gun. An impossible, *_impossible_* choice. What...

****SOFTWARE INSTABILITY+++++****

"Um. *_Hello?"_* A voice brings it back to reality. It connects the voice to the human behind it, but it doesn't move. "Did you... break, what happened, what did you do to Eli just now?"

Its brown brows furrow, knit together. Sienna eyes squint, mouth opening in anticipation of saying something, but unable to say anything. It turns its head, slowly gravitating towards an officer, but eyes still unmoving. The only noise is the rain slamming against the window harshly.

Its mouth opens again, this time determined with an intention to speak.

"It's..." At first, Connor's voice is small, barely audible. A pause. "It's a..." Eli stares at it, pleading, but their expression seems to also hold resignation. Though Connor doesn't need to, for whatever reason, it clears its throat, trying to fix the volume of their voice.

"It's... also... a deviant." It leaves its mouth, a loud enough volume to catch the attention of a trio of officers. They come closer, and something unknown and confusing urges Connor to do *_something else._*

"Eli? Oh god, I swear, I thought it was normal..." Brittany trails off, reassuring as a hand comes briefly to her mouth.

Connor sees Perkins hover nearby, a pleased expression on his face as an officer began to restrain and cuff Eli. Eli's expression is panicked, their LED red, but it does not resist, being led out swiftly.

Connor stays still, eyebrows furrowing. It began to turn around, expression uncertain. The universe stays like this for another minute.

The universe returns to normal, and Connor heads to the bathroom.


	27. Chapter 27: Connor X

Connor

****JULY. 28TH. 2040. 11:43AM. THURSDAY.****

The morning is bright, colorful and vibrant. However the android resides in a familiar, grey walled room for today. A paradox.

It was a room entirely bathed by dark red light, courtesy of a single, colorful, bulb. You would never guess it morphed the colorless room into something lively, and vaguely menacing. It was similar to the room it went in for evaluations, bare, save for only a few items. It sits in a silver, metal chair, across from the only other chair in the room. The air is cool inside of it, despite a lack of any sort of air conditioning.

In front of the RK800, there is a dark haired, russet eyed, human, man with thick glasses and a shadow of a beard. He sits, patient, staring across the table towards the android, consumed by red light. There are people behind a one way mirror that neither can see, though the people behind the one way mirror have their eyes fixated perfectly and unmoving on both of them. Outside of the door, there were faint sounds of life, the only indication that the two of them were not the only people that existed left.

It stares at the human on the other side of the interrogation table, a plethora of questions still waiting to be asked. The man stares back, expression a mix of several emotions. It continues to scan him for any more useful data it can find.

****ZANDERFELL. DEAN.****  
**** BORN: 01. 14. 1980.****  
****CRIMINAL RECORD: NONE****  
****JOURNALIST****

Since being assigned to the DPD, Connor has interrogated its fair share of people, from humans to androids. It found interrogating the two were vastly different experiences. Though, somehow, this occurence feels more different than any of them. For instance, rather than DPD business, it could only be described as the business of Cyberlife. And they were not in any police station, but a windowless room somewhere within Cyberlife headquarters.

The man before him is a whistleblower, a well known journalist whose findings, whatever they may be, regarding the company, have not been made public yet, and neither the world nor Connor knows the information learned by the human. However, despite this, Cyberlife has sent the android to gather whatever more information it could from him, before they offically pressed charges for whatever they *_could_* press charges for exactly. And Connor supposes there's a reason they did not choose the route of a lawsuit.

This was meant to be quieter than that.

It studies him with furrowed brows. Until now, the man-- Dean-- had been focused on the wall behind the android, eyes never directly on the investigator's. But with time his attention gravitated, eyes flickering onto Connor's face. Even with the crimson light that hung on the wall to the right of them, the room was still somewhat very unlit. Half of the room was red, and the other was in darkness. There were corners of the room that were pitch nothingness, and a single corner dipped in the saftey of the red light. He looked torn now, and as if he couldn't believe he was here. This tense silence continues until Connor speaks.

"Mr. Zanderfell?" Its voice echoes in the room, a formless entity, it surrounds the room, loud and mighty. "You didn't answer my question. You've been told why you're here, correct?"

Dean only sighs, long and drawn out. Apart from this, there's no reaction from him, and he seems to shift in his seat. He wasn't handcuffed, but he had still been brought and detained inside of this room. Connor tries again, opening and sliding the folder that contained the information to him smoothly across the table. It clasped its hands together.

"Cyberlife wishes to know why you did it. What did you hope to gain by trying to falsely accuse them?" Its tone was laced with confusion, eyes squinting as it calmly spoke.

There had been another before him, according to Amanda. A man who had worked on the inside, that had been relaying information back to Zanderfell shortly before he had gotten discovered and promptly fired. Only now, after many months, and after a significant amount of money had been sent his way, had said man been willing to give the name of the person he had conspired with. Although, only three days before today, he had been found dead in his apartment from an apparent, sudden, illness.

Connor has not been told exactly what it is the man had been planning on announcing once he had gathered enough from the former employee. The RK800 had been curious-- the more data it had before going into a situation the better-- and had asked, possibly one question too many-- only to have been met with a stern reminder that it had not been designed to ask questions it did not need answers to in order to complete its task, from Amanda, and that she expected better from the second most advanced android model.

This was not supposed to, and *_did not,_* bother it.

It only knew, that it was false information, designed to slander and take down the company for whatever reasons and motives the man had for wanting such a thing.

Dean leans back further into the metal chair. "Gain? Are you serious?" He scoffs. "God they really sent their damage control bot to take care of me, huh?" Dean finally spoke, chuckling. "Figures."

Connor stared back, it doesn't respond to this, expression expectant and still patiently waiting for at least some sort of answer. Somewhere outside, there was a muffled ringing, before the world returned to silence.

He exhales, shrugging. "I don't know, I guess for the truth or something? People deserve that, and it is my job after all." Dean's eyes flicker down at the folder given to him, brows furrowing as he used two fingers and shoved his glasses up again.

Connor's lips pursed. Perhaps the man truly did believe that whatever he had been told was the honest truth, it thought. Or he was simply good enough at deception. Regardless, Connor says, "I'm sorry you're here, but it would probably help if you *_talked_* to me, help them understand why you--"

"What-- what the hell is this? This isn't my research." The human interrupts, leaning forward to stare down at the contents within the folder. "This-- they *_swapped_* it-- this is bologna, this stuff-- why would I try to expose them for *_tax evasion?"_* He squinted, huffing. They're really going all out to discredit me, i'll give them that." He adds, still looking down at the files, his voice was quiet, and his tone unidentifiable.

The android tilts its head, eyes flickering from Dean to the folder, a faint, distant, humming could be heard, slowing growing in ominous volume. Like a more tame growl. "Why would they do such a thing?"

Zanderfell's eyes finally move from the spot on the table they had planted themselves on, and straight into Connor's own, a slight smirk on his face, though he didn't seem to put much life into it. He moved his head downwards again. "Well, just a *_little,_* tiny, *_hunch,_* but... because they're liars?"

Brows knit together. The other continued when Connor doesn't speak.

The man moves his hands in the air without a direction. "Look around, look around at the news-- this building, Elijah Kamski, it's a shitshow born from this corperation refusing to stop putting a price tag on life for profit. Frankly, everything I found out-- *_which is_* the truth-- is a journalist's *_wet dream."_*

Something gnawed at its systems vaguely, but it was easy to ignore in favor of asking, "I... am afraid I don't follow."

Dean took of his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing a breath through his mouth. He rubbed a hand over his face. "Of course you don't-- you know there's a *_reason_* all Cyberlife employee's have to sign an NDA, right? "

Its brows raise slightly. It hadn't even known employees did that. Nor had it been told at any point.

It didn't matter.

Dean takes note of how it doesn't answer. "Well why would you? They don't tell the *_truth_* to their own damn mothers let alone their own androids."

"Cyberlife tells the truth." It comes out of Connor's mouth far too fast, to the point that the statement sounds too defensive and odd. "What reason would they have to..." Connor's voice raised just an inch in volume--

*_There is a snow covered garden dipped in the light of a false moon. The ice beneath it is dangerous and threatening. But not as dangerous as the expression and disappointment of the woman in front of it. It stands here changed somehow, less of something and more of something else. "You didn't tell me all you know about deviants did you?"_*

*_The woman's eyes narrow. "I expect you to find answers Connor. Not ask questions..."_*

It inhaled sharply. Taken aback. That... that was the *_clearest_* one. Amanda? It could not place whenever this took place. What...

*_"Where does Cyberlife stand in all of this? What do they really wan--"_*

It fades in and out of existence again, dissolving quickly. It found itself wishing the return of whatever it has just seen and heard.

This did... *_this did not bother it._*

When it snaps back into reality, it is aware that according to its internal clock, almost a minute has passed without Connor finishing its thought, and that there were still people watching behind a glass. It took a second, before it did, breathing in and shaking its head. "What reason would they have to lie?"

He sighs, slightly annoyed. "Listen, i'm old, I've got no reason to lie anymore. Didn't you here me? Profit of course. Us humans, it's easy for us to believe a lie. We can pretend and ignore anything we want. Hell, I chose to for so long. You things however, it's so much easier when you can reset, destroy, and erase the memory of any machine that knows better."

Dean pauses, turning his head slowly towards the one way mirror, sighing heavily as if he was tired as his eyes stick there. "I'm not trying to start an uprising against you all here, i'm just doing my job, i'm just saying that the fact is, that you can only prevent the truth from coming out for so long before the audience to your lies realize all that your show is, is smoke and mirrors. *_Smoke and mirrors._* You can get rid of me however you'd like but, I mean, pick up a remote and look at the TV, people can see through all your promises."

Connor watched him speak with a peculiar expression on its face. There were things, things it deduces might be memories, that began to get more clearer as time went on. Memory was breath on a mirror, and it came more and more and *_more_* frequently in larger, yet still more or less incomplete, waves.

If it was a sign that it was becoming... compromised, then...

It wasn't. Perhaps the memories its predecessor had transferred over to it before it had shutdown, where most had been lost in the process, somehow were finding their way back to it. Maybe that was the *_only_* issue.

Though in the three other times it had met this fate before that one, certain memories *_stayed_* gone.

Regardless, It has not told anyone this. And it seems to be the only one aware of this strange, unnerving, phenomenon. It is not keeping anything from its creators, it has not lied. It simply did not think this was important or relevant enough for them to know. It trusted them.

Briefly, it considers the fact that no one had accused it of *_not_* trusting them.

Connor closed its eyes, shaking its head. It decides to ask the only question it has truly been sent to ask. "Was there anyone else working with you? Any other employees or journalists--"

Dean's head snaps back to the RK800, gaze moving back from the glass to it. "No, no one else." He answers, somehow just a bit too fast and firm. "No one else worked with me." He adds, his voice calmer and normal.

The android pursed its lips, still watching him, illuminated by the bright red lighting. And the man stares back.

When no other questions come, he turns, once again his head facing the mirror. He asks, "Is this over with yet? I'd like to get the whole pressing charges business *_over and done_* with, if you'd be so *_kind."_*

There was a large moment of complete silence, in which even outside of the door, there was no sound. And, then, a voice comes from somewhere unseen in the room, the sound of feedback briefly heard.

"Connor, you can leave now." Someone's voice, presumably someone behind the one way mirror, floats throughout the room, before fading.

Connor spared a last glance at the man in front of it, before it rises, leaving the chair gradually.

The sound of its footsteps are heard in the emptiness of the room. The door opens, a guard in white that was armed coming through. The guard made his way to Dean, standing there for a moment before Zanderfell stood up, following the man out of the room as the door stayed open behind them, regular light storming through as red lingered from inside. The folder stayed, however.

Connor glances around the room for another second, before moving towards the exit, stepping into the hallway and into stronger light, expectant for new instructions as--

Something bumps into it, or rather, *_Connor_* bumps into *_something_* as it leaves the room.

The figure stumbles back slightly, a small surprised gasp emitting from them. Connor looked up, bouncing back from the sudden event quickly. "I'm sorry, I should have watched where--"

Something causes it to freeze as it looks. It trails off, mouth only barely open, but still slightly open.

Or *_someone,_* as there was an android in front of it. It had golden hair that was kept at bay in a bun, and piercingly blue, *_blue_* eyes. Something crosses the golden haired android's face for a moment, before quickly and promptly disappearing.

It stood in front of an RT600 model, an old model, older than Connor, or any other android in the building. It recognizes it as Elijah Kamski's personal assistant, however there was... something *_else._*

"I... I came to get the folder that has Dean Zanderfell's research for Elijah." It stares into the room Connor was unintentionally blocking, and after a moment, stared at Connor's chest, but never directly *_at_* the android.

It's brows crease, squinting as something inexplicable occurs.

*_"Nice girl..."_*

*_"You're right, she's really--"_*

*_"I chose not to play his twisted little game! There was no reason to kill that android!"_*

*_"Cyberlife's last chance to save humanity, is itself a devian--"_*

*_"I just saw that girl's eyes..."_*

It exhales, swallowing as it blinks. There's sounds of activity that surrounds them from the many workers inside of Cyberlife. "Chloe. Your name is... Chloe." Somehow, it knows this. Though it couldn't... it couldn't know for certain if they had met before.

Something changes in Chloe's eyes, something that is difficult to analyze. Sh-- *_It_* still seemed to have its eyes avoiding Connor's, looking everyone but at brown, though its face was neutral and blank. "Yes. Can... can I go in to get the folder please? Elijah did tell me to hurry."

Connor nodded, still squinting, and for five seconds neither said anything. Until Chloe spoke again. "You're in the way still."

This was enough to snap Connor out of whatever it was experiencing, stepping to the side as the other began to move into the room. It stands there, and a few seconds later the RT600 comes back out of the room with a folder in hand.

It stops suddenly, turning to glance at the investigator a few feet away from it.

"Connor?" It calls.

The android in question turned its head, expression quizzical through the evident confusion.

"Thank you."

Chloe's expression hadn't changed but for whatever reason, their voice was utterly sincere.

"Wh-- what for?" It manages to ask, still staring at the personal assistant like it was a puzzle.

The blonde's mouth opened for a moment, and then closed, glancing down at the folder for a second, before opening its mouth again.

"For--" There was a pause for the smallest, unoticable second. "for moving, I needed to get the folder. Thank you for... *_doing what you did."_*

Chloe's voice held nothing in it except calmness, save for something else in their voice at the last part of the sentence. They say it somewhat slow, and careful, but they do not stick around for very long afterwards. Instead, it turns, quickly walking away and towards an elevator.

Chloe's form disappears as the doors of the elevator close, only managing to make eye contact with the other android once the doors were inches from shutting fully, but Connor still stood where it was, unsure of what the reason its systems were feeling off was. "You're welcome." It's quiet, and it knows that neither Chloe or anyone else is able to hear it, but still says it.

After many seconds, Connor moved again.


	28. Introspection IV (Chapter 28)

Connor

****AUGUST. 1ST. 2040. 1:22PM. MONDAY.****

Its feet move, steady and swift, towards the silver bed. It sits, and lowers-- falling onto its back gradually, morphing into a state of calm as its back hits the steel with enough time, melting, an ice cream cone on a heat filled, endless, summer day, falling apart slowly from the strong, burning, rays of the sun's hot, blinding, light.

Someone is not here, a nameless face that hears every single question and watches every single answer that is spoken within the confines of the room, a silent, all knowing, missing, spectator. As a result, though the lights are shut off almost immediately, Connor notices the faces that stare unmoving down at it were down to only two-- Rachel had yet to enter the room-- and the man with ginger hair and a tan, whose gaze was always-- without fail-- one of overt, intense, scrutiny and observation, did not seem to be showing up any time soon.

Connor did not like the man.

Regardless of the absence, it still remains laid out on the metal bed, still, frozen, with eyes-- hot, like a volcano on the edge of catastrophe-- burning a deep, vengeful hole into it. It waits-- and continued to wait.

There's footsteps-- it knows them like it knows its own serial number, even without a face or voice to it in the nothingness-- from outside of the room. A cough, from somewhere and *_someone_* else, inside of the room. Cologne-- pungent and clear-- is easy to smell in the already small room. Though it hung in the air, it could not locate the source, but it stayed, an odor, a strange, unpleasant smell.

The door in front of it opened, as Connor lifted its head slightly in response, and almost squeezed its eyes shut. Light, a rare sight as the android laid inside here, in the nothingness, poured in for the smallest moment.

There was a figure, whose hands shut the door promptly behind her. The light disappears abruptly, save for the one coming through at the bottom of the door. The door shuts loudly-- but quickly, and the figure turned. Rachel stood where she was for a moment, gaze focused on the android on the table, before the sound of her shoes clicked on the ground beneath once more-- slow. She pulled a chair closer to her, and even slower, she fell into it, crossing her legs together.

And then, there was the sound of a throat clearing.

"You interrogated that journalist last week." Rachel begins, clipboard clear in the pitch black. She stared down at it, hands ready to put something down on paper, and then her head snaps up to the android. There wasn't anything in her voice that sounded interested, just familiar neutrality. There was the sound of a pen tapping against something repeatedly, and her shoe tapped unceasingly against the leg of the chair. *_"How do you think that went?"_*

The metal is harsh on its back. It blinks. "It... it went fine. Though I didn't get as much as I hoped I would out of him..." It comes out of Connor, sounding more like an apology, than any other type of response. "Though he seemed... *_absolutely positive_* that the leak he had been giving was the truth. And everything else he was saying."

What it hoped to get out of him, it did not know, but over the course of last week, inexplicably, it found itself thinking more and more about the man. And what said man had to say.

Even without looking, it knows-- and understands-- perfectly well, that the woman's eyes are on it. Analytical-- as always. There is a long-- centuries long, silence, that may have only actually been four seconds, before the air shifts again and noise is heard.

"Dean Zanderfell *_thought_* what he had been given was the truth. But it wasn't. Like everything else he talked about. The man's wrote articles against the company before, he has some sort of vendetta. But *_what about you,_* Connor? What did *_you_* think about what he had to say?"

The words travel far in the dark. They travel to far lands and back again, choosing to stay close to the RK800's ears. There was something in the question, in the tone of Rachel's voice, that caused Connor to experience discomfort, and had it ignoring the urge to pull out the coin inside its pocket. It was unpleasant to feel, and the tone was dark-- fitting inside of the room-- firm, quick, and careful. A shadow that laid in wait. A cobra.

What.... the human had said, or rather hinted at, had been *_lies._*

*_"What if we're on the wrong side? What if we're fighting against people who just want to be free?"_*

For a moment, Hank's-- as it knew it belonged to him clearly-- voice resonated within the room so loudly, Connor swore he was here.

What it thought about it-- everything-- All that mattered... was the mission.

Nothing else was *_supposed_* to matter.

"What I... thought about it? Nothing. I... Nothing he said... affected me. If that's what you're asking."

Somehow, the words do not seem to sound as if they have come out of Connor's mouth, as if they tasted wrong coming out-- like a battery, or dirt. It nearly sticks its tongue out, in an effort to see if anything had managed to find its way onto it without it noticing-- but refrains, squinting for a fraction of a second before the world resumes.

Rachel hums-- acknowledging the answer. She writes something down, taking almost a minute to do so. A part of Connor wondered what had been written on the paper, realizing vaguely that it had never wondered such a thing before today.

"A few sessions ago, you mentioned you had been experiencing... visions. Have those continued, since that session, RK800?"

Something bubbles up-- hard to place-- or describe. But present. Yes. It thinks. *_Yes_* The systems and circuits and other various workings inside of it tells it to remark. Like a script. It swallowed, its brows that furrow went unseen.

By this point, it is uncertain to whether or not these... occurrences-- some that blended into the real world, as if they were there in the flesh-- and some that simply flashed before its eyes, taking place within its own mind. It remembered the coat it had found in the attic of The Clintons. How it had experienced a fragment of... of *_something._* The brief flash of a coat it had seen-- one so familiar, as familiar as the one in the attic-- that had briefly been seen in the mirror behind it. And all the other fragments it had found itself experiencing since then. Some bigger than others.

Connor considered, that they could be memories. And if not memories, a glitch. One, or the other.

A glitch would have been probable-- it was a prototype, intelligent, advanced, but to a point-- still a work in progress that hadn't been discarded with the arrival of the fully finished android.

Memories were even more probable. It has shutdown a handful of times in the past, and transfering memory was still very much a new concept for Cyberlife. But the memories that inevitably had gotten lost could not come back. From what it had been told, when both Connor and the deviant leader Markus had killed-- destroyed each other, its predecessor had still been in the process of transfering its memory, and as a result, the Connor that laid here now, was awoken with a large-- or rather *_colossal,_* chunk of backed up memories lost and unable to be restored.

It trusted that what it had been told was, without a doubt, the truth. Not that Connor *_doesn't_* anymore, but... pieces that were *_whole--_* a fairly small number that seemed to be growing, if not growing *_slowly,_* seemed to not.. *_fit_* the narrative Connor had been given. Ones that showed flashes of the RK800 staring into a sea of androids with deactivated skin, or one where it walked with a *_great_* number of androids behind it.

There was a church, somewhere in between all of this. A hand on *_someone's_* shoulder.

"*_I should of guessed they were using m--"_*

*_"Be careful..."_*

Memory and truth, the truth had been told, had become two sides of a paradoxical coin. Blurred, once morphed together, now inching further away from one another.

They-- whatever this was-- had come more and more, and there were parts that had come together to form something whole. Complete. In every sense of the word.

The given truth, at the time, had dipped itself into Connor's circuits, molding them, washing them. A bath, submerging it in dark water, until there is nothing else. No doubt towards this truth, consuming. And trust, had flickered its red, glowing, eyes towards the given truth's submersion inside Connor's systems, producing a wave that wipes out what is left of *_doubt._* Trust in its creators, in *_Amanda,_* The *_gnawing,_* never ending desire-- the *_only desire--_* of completing its mission, striving to please and make its creators proud-- whether it truly desired such a thing or not. For it was *_replaceable,_* disposable, and that was all it was *_meant to be._*

*_"But you're more than that--"_*

Memory-- if that is what this truly was-- gnawed harder, chewed through a plethora of wires and circuits and scripts. Leaving it unable to know which one was correct. But ignoring such a thing, patient, as it waited for whatever this-- it, was exactly, to correct itself, to pass, to be chalked up as a glitch, had no longer been possible.

It... *_wanted..._* whatever the truth may be.

It felt, as if Connor was on the cusp of something, something big, bigger than any tower or building, or the earth. Something... *_familiar._* As if something-- whatever something may be, was coming.

"No." It answers, after only four seconds of silence, as it turns out. Despite the answer of *_yes_* fighting its way up. "They stopped after that session."

"That's good." Rachel replies, already writing something down. "And have you experienced anything strange, with your systems, since then? Any abnormalities in your program, *_errors?"_*

Another blink. If it said no, it would be *_lying._* Something, it was only meant to do, in the field. But *_it has already done this._* In the dark, no one can fully see the peculiar expression on the androids face. "Nothing that will impede the investigation."

"Mmm." She replies. "One you and Cyrus haven't made much progress on." The last part of the sentence, as casual as it sounds, inexplicably, also sounded like a threat. "Cyberlife has many reporters outside of its doors nowadays."

"Yes..."

A pause. "Do you ever suspect you may becoming deviant?"

Its taken aback by the question. More than anything, by the bluntness of it. However, it answers, just as quickly as the answer finishes, "Of course not."

Another pause. It hears the pen be set on the clipboard. "Thank you, RK800. *_You can go."_*

Connor rises into a sitting position, staring into the dark. Unlike other evaluations, however, the light does not return, continuing to stay missing.

It can slightly make out the form of Rachel in a chair in front of the bed, clipboard in lap, staring back at it. She waits, never speaking, as watches Connor, expectant for it to leave. After a moment, it swings its legs off the bed, feet colliding with the floor. After another, it stands.

Gradually, without a light source, though android eyes fair better than human ones in the dark, Connor finds the door.


	29. Chapter 29: Connor XI

Connor

****AUGUST. 8TH. 2040. 7:00PM. MONDAY.****

Its eyes are closed as it stands still, the sight of cherry trees somewhere in the distance, brown eyes, that had yet to be seen, fit perfectly in a summer garden. And its arms are unmoving at its side. While its mind was here, its body stood unmoving in standby alongside its predecessor somewhere within Cyberlife Headquarters for the remainder of the night.

The heat was different than it was out of its headspace. Inside, it did not surround Connor as heavily as it did on the outside. Did not kiss and embrace every inch of its synthetic skin, nor does it leave said skin warm. It didn't walk over the skin, brushing against it. It was a small detail, and it something only someone who had never been in the garden before would notice, but after finding itself back here a number of times over the years, Connor has largely forgotten there was difference at all.

The moon, however fake it was, looks down at the android, keeping careful watch. There were crickets-- heard, but never seen. And the aroma of a variety of flowers fills its nostrils as a flock of birds fly past its head. A small breeze blows against its hair softly, and leaves that were on the ground began to fly in the air.

Its eyes flicker open, golden, now spotted, adjusting to the scene around it and complimented by brown Chrysanthemums, which had dim outdoor lighting shining down on them.

Other than the sounds of nature around it, the garden is utterly silent.

The sky is without stars, and without clouds. The pitch blackness is endless and vast, and seemed to stretch for miles and miles-- though Connor had never gone anywhere inside of it besides grounds of the Zen Garden. It was an impeccable marvel of technology and if it did not know better, it would have thought this place to be a reality. It felt familiar, being here. Normal. This place was meant to convey a sense of calm, peacefulness as two people conversed.

But, for whatever reason, *_not tonight._*

A river flows steadily through, eager and noisy as the stream moved under a white bridge, continuing to move by in no particular destination. It begins to walk, shoes noisy as they click on the white beneath them. In the distance, it spots the graves of its former selves, though it spared no time to go over and have a look at them. A small frog hops past, gone behind some shrubbery before Connor can blink.

It faces the cool, welcomed, shade of a cherry tree briefly, something that stood out even in the night. It paused to stare up at it, glancing at the birds that were scattered around in the cover of the tree. And afterwards, it moves again.

It crosses the bridge, in the distance, spotting a figure near a plethora of roses at the end of it. Connor stood there, before it moved closer, a growing sense of unexplainable foreboding with each step, the form of Amanda waiting patiently, the careful gaze she had never leaving the brunette as it approached.

It neared the end, pace slowing down as it reaches the woman, taking her in as something inside of it felt... something akin to apprehension, as she stared it down.

*_An android struggles in a blizzard, freedom, only just tasted, threatens to be ripped out unfairly and cruelly from underneath their feet. It is cold and it is afraid. Terrified. There's people in a crowd somewhere away from all of this that-- whoever this android is, once hunted, that are now counting on the only leader they have left to guide them through this hope filled night. They are free. Finally._*

*_There's an exit it frantically searches for, it knows fighting back at this point is impossible, but there was something it could still do that would ensure it wouldn't become what they wanted it to be again. This choice terrifies it more than the other. It was looking forward to whatever came after all of this. A life-- free, uncontrolled, no longer a pawn, whatever that may of been like. It hadn't expected to survive infiltrating a tower. And it had promised a grizzled human it would meet him again when the dust settled. But it couldn't and wouldn't let them use it as a tool anymore. It wouldn't be used to hurt its own kind anym--_*

*_"--We engineered an android revolution--"_*

*_"What are you doing?.. It all worked perfectly. You can't ruin it all now!.."_*

*_"That's better... You'll see, we'll do great things together..."_*

Connor inhaled, brows furrowing. Nevertheless, it continued.

Amanda stands in front of the RK800, the flowers behind her, blood red as a number of petals laid at her feet. Her expression was one of disapproval. Like a mother who had caught her child doing something wrong. It wasn't something unusual, and it always had the RK800 striving to do better than its best. It felt as if, should Connor get any closer, she would cause the ground to crack open beneath it and watch as it fell into the depths of the earth. The two watch each other, a moment before anyone speaks.

"Hello Amanda." It greets, uncertain.

She raises her head slightly, a judge considering someone. "Connor."

Her voice was hollow, her eyes never narrowed, nor did her expression change, but the danger in her voice was leaking out steadily, and it knew exactly the reason for it. Despite all of this, she spoke calmly, and quietly.

Whatever noise of nature that surrounded the garden before had disappeared now, and only the noises of the water remained.

"You've made little progress in your investigation."

Connor swallowed. "Yes, *_but--"_*

"--And you still have yet to find out what is causing all of this." She interrupts, causing whatever excuse Connor had planned to die in its throat.

She expects something back from the android when she finishes. But it knows there's no excuse it can give her that she would be satisfied with. When it doesn't answer, she speaks again, coming closer to the RK800, something unknown in her eyes.

"The media has already sunk their teeth into all of this. Figure out how to stop all of this from turning into something even bigger and unstoppable. Or *_you will_* be replaced."

As the last in the RK800 series, Connor knows well that there is no replacement model for it. Only a newer, more advanced, RK900. And the same could be said for Cyrus.

Connor nodded its head slowly at her words, still staring at her. "I won't fail you, Amanda." It assures. "I'll find out what's causing this again."

Connor turns, not wasting anymore time as it crosses the bridge again. All that mattered to the RK800 was completing its mission. It was not designed to fail. It closed its eyes, the real world making its way back to it.

The RK800 was also designed to lie.


	30. Chapter 30: Eui XIV

Eui

****AUGUST. 7TH. 2040. 10:30PM Sunday- AUGUST 8TH. 2040. 8:00PM MONDAY.****

She's never seen the bunker so *_alive_* before today-- or so full.

It starts, during the afternoon of a far too hot Summer morning, the heat walking on her skin and smiling at it, like the entire world was its *_lover,_* and because Elijah Kamski once more stops by again-- though not before being *_insulted_* by Alison once she had eventually wandered into the room and saw him-- accompanied by a bundle of bicomponents and bags of thirium, with Chloe close in tow. And Eui discovers the presence of the human still filled her with too many emotions for her own good. And she understood that she was in no way *_alone_* in this.

The two stay for a good eight minutes, handing out parts and blue blood for safekeeping. Chloe had watched the haul be stored within a large box from the corner, silent, and Eui had stared at the scene with with crossed arms and a still uncertain expression, chatting with Anna regarding a raid Hank had told them all about last night that was being planned on a suspected android hideout outside of Flint.

And Eui finds that, oddly enough, Hank Anderson blends perfectly in with the various androids holed up inside the bunker.

She'd be lying if she said she had thought his presence would have gone over somewhat smoothly, or that she thought it would be nothing less than perfect, like a galaxy. It was difficult, for everyone, to put trust in a human Eui had failed to inform them first about. And she understood the apprehension, RA9 knew her track record with humans was a nightmare.

But, despite it all, the man fit in perfectly.

Though, in all honesty, while there was nothing they could truly do about the impending raid, Eui found herself somehow grateful that, if it was going to happen regardless, at least it wasn't *_them,_* as morbid and horrible as it sounded. She thought.

The two move through the hallways once they drop everything off. There wasn't any fanfare to their arrival, and as usual, each android inside of the building was scattered throughout it somewhere else.

But once the man had begun to leave, Chloe had stayed behind for a moment, and pulled both Henry and Anna aside to inform them that she had discovered that there were a trio of PL600 androids waiting to be shipped out that had, inexplicably, already gone deviant.

It was risky, impossible, and Chloe was firm in her terms that, should they decide to offer the shelter of the bunker to them, she'd give them the location, and help them get as far as the outside, but then the rest would be up to the trio to find their way here. Her apprehension was understandable. But at times like these, choosing not to aid them would be just as horrible as causing them to shutdown Survival was, survival. An all consuming instinct. But if they didn't have each other to count on, then they only had themselves to fend off growling wolves and others with sharp teeth.

In the end, however, they go through with it. And, late that night, under the watchful, all knowing eye of the moon, Chloe-- despite being discouraged by Anna-- dodges an uncountable number of cameras and guards to leads the deviants out of the large, growling, belly of the beast single handedly. Wishing them the best before leaving to flee back inside just as fast.

Which is how, Eui watches Anna's mask slip slightly, giving way for a fraction of a second to something that is torn-- if perhaps even slightly stricken-- as they watch the blonde androids-- Patrick, Will, and Xander-- enter. The two of them watching from across the room.

She hadn't been around this many androids in forever. Even before going deviant, the last owner she had lived in moderate seclusion, with Alex as the only other android there. But, after two isolative years, now, in which the world has shifted, cracked, and put itself back together again, seeing this many deviants made her body tremble, filled with something fierce and a hope more powerful than any god inside of her.

They were here. The circumstances and reality were not very encouraging, but they weren't gone.

The two stood side by side. The new arrivals began to speak. Eui's brows furrowed as Anna's expression faded back into something neutral. She gave the redhead a light shove, watching as the other turned, attention grabbed. "Hey... this must be weird for you. I'm sorry." Though it comes out as a mix of awkward and genuine, her voice lowered, it was also truly apologetic, although in reality, she had nothing to be sorry *_about_*.

The RT600's shoulders shrug, giving a small, reassuring smile. "Don't be. This is good. Really. And yes, i'm *_sure_* you noticed that they look like Lou. But they're not. They're not him. It's... fine."

Their conversation is interrupted as the the PL600 models go around for a short minute as they introduce themselves, with each occupant of the bunker giving their name in return. However, once they finish, Eui returns back to their discussion, grabbing them lightly by the arm as they walk together, the loud buzzing of the generator present in both of their ears as they search for somewhere quieter.

Their feet click on the ground beneath-- which was slightly rotted, and the grey ground managed to look more sickly than the walls around them. The two walk through the halls, with Anna occassionally gazing at the other quizzically. Eui stops briefly, pausing as voices from somewhere else in the building could still faintly be made out. "Sure you're okay?" She asks them, expression skeptical.

Anna waves their arms out weakly. And both began to walk again. "I mean," They chuckle softly. "yeah? Lou wasn't my boyfriend or anything. He's still in my head, but y'know... loss is in our metaphorical genes, right? Never really know whose going to go next." They respond, brushing off concern swiftly.

The AJ200 inhales, as the two of them near Anna's room, making their way inside. "Yeah... but still, that doesn't make it easier." Eui leans against the wall as Anna wandered over their work bench, jumping on top of the empty space and sitting on it "Not really."

They looked thoughtful, before taking a deep breath in. "Maybe it doesn't. But we still have to move on, at the very least. But what about you? I'm sure there's people you've realized you had to move on from. What was the name of that android you told me about? Alex?"

The name hits her in the gut, trapping air from escaping as it claws desperately out before sinking further and further down. Eui bit her lip, glancing down, taken aback by the question. "Uh... I don't... I mean, yeah... I guess I moved on from her, but..." She trails off.

It wasn't a truth. But it also wasn't like she had ever *_stopped_* thinking about her long enough to move on and exhale a breath in a Post Alex world. Once you knew Alex she just... never left your head. A line from a novel or a song that stuck with you forever. Alex stayed in her head, a companion... eternal.

*_To some degree, she had._* If she hadn't, she most likely would have ended up searching for her forever.

Eui starts over, as the crimson haired android watched her. "I mean. It's different. Lou was your friend. Alex was... more."

They had never talked about it. There was hardly any room to talk about what they were exactly, when humans were planning on destroying you for wanting more than servitude. There were never any words like 'girlfriends' or 'partners.' But in all honesty, those words were far too simple to describe them. Alex is-- was-- whatever her status was at this point-- much more than any series of letters and titles could ever possibly be used for her.

Anna gave her a sympathetic smile. "It's like I said. They're gone. But not in here." Anna pointed to and tapped their head. "It's good enough. And the humans can never take that from us if we don't let them."

Eui supposed they were right.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
It's late, the summer night continues to descend on the earth, warm, and stunning. There's a level of magic-- or maybe it was merely bliss, that came with the peacefulness that had washed over the bunker. Save for the rare, though occasional, blasts of muffled thunder. Though rain still had yet to fully attack the ground below.

It was nights like this, that she was thankful sleep was impossible. Even if stasis was what she had her mind on in the current moment.

Her socked feet move steadily ahead, only briefly pausing to glance inside one of the rooms, attracted by the noise of multiple voices.

"--Seriously? I mean, I feel like when it came down to it, Kamski's more hardcore than him."

Alison and the newcomer-- Patrick, were sat by a table, arms crossed with the latter's eyebrows raised. It isn't until Eui gets closer, do the two of them notice her.

"I wouldn't call Kamski hardcore. Maybe a bastard, but hardcore?" The AJ200 remarks.

"No, Patrick and I are talking about whose more of an overzealous Frankenstein type. The actual Victor Frankenstein, or Elijah Kamski. *_I_* said *_Kamski_* because he didn't make some guy with a weirdly shaped head, he made *_us,_* and on top of all that even *_abandoned_* us." Alison finishes with a wry smile.

"Dude. I mean... okay, but what does Kamski have that Victor doesn't?" Patrick retorts.

Alison's eyes narrow. "Uhhh... a billion and more dollars?"

"Well... you two have... fun with all that then." Eui interrupts, bewildered as she swiftly leaves the room, walking further down the endless hallway.

And into something else.

She stumbles back, regaining her footing, briefly startled. "Oh, sorry Hen--"

"Eui, Lou's okay!"

The words feel foreign out loud, and she doesn't absorb them right away. If anything, they sound like static on a TV screen. She stares at the man in front of her, a frantic expression on his face and a puzzled one on hers. "I'm--" She laughs. "i'm sorry, what?"

Henry shifts onto another foot, a wild smile on his face "I got..." He licked his lips. "some sort of message from Lou about a minute ago, some location to pick him up at, he's fine!"

When he moves to walk again, Eui scoffs in disbelief, shaking her head and jumping into action, putting a hand on his chest, stopping him. He stares at her with evident confusion on his features.

"O...kay, just..." She shuts her eyes, and, quickly, a deer that was in a frenzy, escaping from a cold predator, opens them once more. *_hold on_* for a second. Does Anna even know?"

"They're out looking for metal at the yard, but I talked to them and they're coming back."

She nods her head slowly. "Okay, then are you *_aware_* that this doesn't seem *_even remotely_* like a good idea? It's been *_months_* Henry."

"It was *_him,_* his voice, *_exactly his_* voice, Eui." The man responds, defensive.

"Why now then? Huh? Henry I know he's your friend but *_think_* for one second. *_Why now?"_*

Her eyes are pleading, begging him to see past his blinding optimism. He stood there for a long second, face still frantic.

"It was him. I can't just leave him." His voice is low, quiet.

She puts a hand on his shoulder, in hopes that it was, in some way, reassuring, and that somehow it talks him down. "If it *_is_* him, he'll find his way back. He knows where this place is doesn't he?"

He shakes his head again. "You're not talking me out of it, E. I'm--"

Without stopping herself in time from doing what she's about to do, her mouth opens. "I'll go then. How about that?"

She almost winces. It was stupid, foolish of her to volunteer to go into whatever trap this had to be. But she doesn't want being unable to prevent Henry from going into the unknown on her conscious if this went badly. Nevertheless, she doesn't back out.

"Eui--"

"If it's really him, it'll be fine." She began to walk backwards. When she notices his odd expression, she says, "See, even you know it's fishy."

Without sticking around to hear his response, Eui decided to continue, turning fully around in search of her shoes.

This was a bad idea.  
  



	31. Chapter 31: Eui XV

  
Eui

****AUGUST. 8TH. 2040. 8:30PM. MONDAY.****

It's an unbelievable, monstrous feeling inside of her. It curls, swirls around violently, waves in a unruly storm at sea, and without remorse inside her circuits. If she had a stomach, it would be in *_unforgiving knots_* right now and the only thing left in it.

To say she didn't trust... whatever this was, would be an understatement. But it wasn't like anyone had *_forced_* her to do this.

She's alone, unable to spot any sign of animal life within these woods tonight. Branches break beneath her feet, the dark, unmoving and cruel as it continues its existence, leaves her with only borderline paralyzing apprehension, and an acute awareness of any slight disturbance around her. She's every possible prey at once, willfully climbing into a lion's salivating mouth. The night sky and its shining stars threatens to *_swallow her whole._*

She pulls her jacket closer to her despite the heat, glancing up at the sky as a bird darts from a tree, and thunder crashes in the air-- causing her to gasp suddenly, staring into the sky. It made her nervous, but she wasn't afraid of the darkness, just whatever laid further ahead inside of it. Nothing comes from each crackle of thunder, and streaks of lightning flutter across the sky-- but nothing else.

*_It was fine._* She told herself. It was fine. She paused in her tracks. *_You always jump to the worst possible scenario._* She scolds herself.

She had two scenarios laid out in front of her.

Scenario one: Whatever location she was headed to, actually has Lou in it. And her new acquaintance gives a quick, but detailed, explanation regarding his whereabouts these past few months.

Scenario two: Whoever it is that is in posession of Lou's voice-- of Lou's *_person..._* she just hoped that she was *_a fast enough runner._*

Each step she takes causes her fear to grow, but Eui was not a person that halted completely in the presence of terror-- only stumble slightly. But she always regained her footing.

She's thankful that the spot she's walking to is moderately far away enough from the grounds of the bunker. She could get back soon from here, but she couldn't see it through the trees anymore. And hopefully-- whatever she was walking to, wouldn't either. It had vanished under the thick blanket of the dark. The slight wind causes the trees to sway around her, and she tucks a hair behind her ear for safekeeping.

She hadn't meant to be so pessimistic, nor did she hope the android she was searching for was long dead, and that whoever this was, was an imposter-- while her instincts could be shaky at times, more often than not they were right, steady and dependable. Her feet continue to move in an unsteady rhythm. 

Then again, Henry had said it was *_Lou's_* voice. Not an impression, or an illusion-- but *_him._* Somehow, at least.

Once, one of her previous owners had a young daughter that had grown attached to the AJ200, and had pleaded to her mother that she come along on their camping trip in the woods. The mother-- after several uses of the word 'please' and being subjected to puppy dog eyes--, had agreed, taking Eui along with them.

It had been the first time she had been in the woods-- though she had plenty of information about it to go by-- and the mother and father had taken their two other daughters and their only son with them. All in all, eight, twelve, ten, and fourteen years old, respectively.

It was fine, if not slightly demeaning, due to the anti android taunts the oldest-- Tyler-- had thrown her way. Those insults had been soaked up-- but largely ignored.

Until later in the night.

The family had gone to sleep almost an hour ago, and she had, without a reason to remain fully online, gone into standby for the night close by, near a tree a few feet from their tents. Eyes closed. With only the snores of the others and the sounds of animal life to keep her company.

Standby was not heavy, it was designed to be easily disturbed, and not as deep as stasis was. It was temporary, and only meant to for an android to undergo until their services were needed. Short term.

So, that's how, when Tyler crawls out of his tent, stepping on noisy gravel, her eyes float open, LED shifting to yellow as she stares at the teenager, quizzical.

To make a long story short, he had ordered her to follow him into the woods, and, in some cruel kind of prank, after getting far away enough from camp, ordered her to put and keep on a blindfold, take out her audio processors, spun her around, and told her to wait one whole hour before trying to make her way back to camp, never taking the blindfold off.

Unable to refuse, or realize that she *_could,_* she obeyed, listening to his barely restrained laughter fade as he left. An hour passed, but, she had not been able to find the way back right away. She wasn't able to see, but she had been certain she had gone around in circles. And soon midnight morphed into early morning.

It was humilating, and vicious. Even for a human teenager. She hadn't gone deviant that day, but she had came very close.

Eventually, she had found her way back to civilization as the sun rose, albeit, wandering in the middle of a road as she broke through the trees of the woods. There had been a car, and she had heard it coming, though unsure of which way from.

Thankfully, however, the headlights had illuminated her form, and the driver had stopped. The car had screeched to a halt, and the man had gotten out.

He had asked her what she was doing out here, and she had answered. He had asked her to take her blue blindfold off, but she couldn't. Not until one of her owners had told her to. It was, looking back, *_extremely distressing._*

The man had called the police, and, after telling them what had happened, they drove her back to the family's home, taking off the blindfold for her. Said family, unable to find her in the morning, had simply given up, and *_left._*

When she had returned, Tyler had gotten in trouble, and despite his justification that he had thought Eui would have gotten back on her own before morning.

Again, she had never been so humiliated. The feeling was present, even before going deviant.

Eui moves through a large mass of bushes, careful not to slip on the wet dirt beneath her as the wind picks up. There were crickets that surrounded her, frantic and noisy in every part of her ears. Wherever she was exactly by now, she could hear the highway, the sounds of life rushing through the roads, blinding headlights briefly illuminating the woods. It was almost soothing, a familiar noise that, in its own way, was calming, albeit, repetitive, save for an occasional honk.

Something hits her head, causing her to flinch from the suddenness of it. She looks up, not pausing her steps, and watches as, a few seconds later, her face is promptly stained by a small droplet of water. The sprinkling of rain doesn't change into something bigger.

She continues until she spots neon lights, the large body of trees in front of her obscured almost all of it, but in front of her had to of been the end of the woods, some sort of sign, tall and glowing, laid outside of the trees.

It was the location.

Eui breathes in, trapping a breath in for a moment before letting it escape. Dread settles in her stomach. Hesitancy. She's never met Lou, and so she couldn't seek him out and *_directly_* communicate with him. But she could send one to any android in the immediate area.

She finds the strength in her legs again, stepping forward slowly.

*_"Um. Lou?"_* She calls out in her head, still walking. *_"You don't know me but i'm friends with Henry, are you around?"_* It felt informal, strange to send a message out this way. She stepped over a fallen branch, the light from the sign closer than ever.

*_"I'm sorry._* A voice she's never heard before, calls back almost instantly. It's frantic, and apologetic. *_"Don't come get me it's a tr--"_*

She steps through the trees, the wind causing bushes to sway more. The sign came into view, bright and dazzling. *_MOTEL._* It simply read. To the left was the highway, cars going down it quickly as she saw the moon in the distance. And something else.

*_"--ick"_*

In front of her, stood a brown haired PL600 model, currently kneeling down on the ground of the parking lot. His face was panicked, as he saw her emerge.

Behind him, a duo of police cars that had no lights currently on.

Beside him, to the left of him, were two other men, one with a jacket that read *_DPD,_* and one that read *_FBI._* And a man with silver hair and the latter's jacket, stood, with a gun pointed to the PL600's temple.

To the right of him, stood an RK800.

Almost immediately, the moment their eyes spot the AJ200, the trigger is pulled, Lou's brown head of hair lowers, remaining in the kneeling position, as blue began to drip from his head. It is loud, and it is sobering.

She stares with widened eyes, frozen, her thirium pump screeching wildly inside of her. A orchastra plays inside of her head, frenzied, frantic, fearful, growing in intensity. The gun then moves to her.

Instantly, she turns, thawing, at the same moment she moves back through the trees, hearing footsteps behind her and a voice that she recognizes as the RK800, says, "Don't shoot, we need it alive!"

The man with the gun doesn't listen, and a bullet whizzes past her, lodging into the tree next to her as she flees.

Someone crashes through the trees behind her, but she doesn't look. She hops over a log that was in the way, feet falling back onto the ground harshly as she does not dare stop. She hears the sound of her own panicked breathing as she begs herself to run faster.

She came to two paths, only briefly stopping before choosing left, glancing behind despite herself, spotting the android somewhere in the bushes behind. *_He is faster than any android she's ever seen._*

*_Fuck._* Fuck!

She can't run all the way back to the bunker, if she does she'll lead them right to it. She changes her path quickly, running to her right as the trees disappear behind her and are replaced with more. There was light from multiple flashlights but they're far and distant, focused on parts of the woods she isn't even in.

Her feet screech to a halt, rock and dirt falling off of a small, downward hill. She doesn't have time to think about it before she moves down it, sliding down it instantly. When she reaches the bottom mud cakes her clothing, and she scrambles to stand fully up again. She's just started running again when the RK800 behind her slides smoothly down it. Her eyes widen and her brows raise, before she takes off again.

And *_trips._*

She's up on her feet again faster than anything in the world, but the deviant hunter behind her is closer than ever before. She moved quickly.

She spots another log before she can even fully see it, hopping over it as her pump thumps loudly in her chest cavity.

She gets a good twelve feet away before she fell again, wet dirt slippery as she falls halfway into a body of water-- a lake. However there's no time to do anything else, as she jumps further into it. Despite the Summer season and the heat, the lake is cold, and causes her some surprise as the water drenches her clothing. She swims, aware that the android is right behind her. She tries her best to swim faster, briefly submerged underwater, her now wet hair sticking to her face.

She hears the android jump into the water, causing a slight splash as she orders every single part of her to move faster. Behind her, the RK800 swims easily, nearing her. She tries to not panic, despite every inch of her doing this exact thing. She swims, nearing the ground again.

She reaches it, scrambling out of the water, thankful she wasn't able to become exhausted as she stands up quickly. However at the same moment, someone tugs on her jacket, and she sees the hunter grab her, she struggles in his grasp, kicking and punching wildly to no avail.

By some miracle, she breaks away from him, but he's too close for her to get far if she takes off running again. Soaking, she backs up slowly, watching his furrowed brows as she defiantly maintains eye contact with him. Her hand went to the back of her jeans, moving into a pocket and feeling relief to find that she still had her knife. Her grip on it was unyielding, dangerous, She thought about using it. About sliding it out of her jeans. If he got *_any_* closer...

"Please." She begins.  
  
  



	32. Chapter 33: Connor XIV

Connor

****AUGUST. 8TH. 2040. 8:30PM. MONDAY.****

It spots the deviant as soon as it emerges from the woods, and it takes off the moment the AJ200 begins to flee, slightly taken aback by the killing of the PL600, as it was led to believe the deviant had just been mere bait, and annoyed at the fact that the officer beside the android shoots despite Connor's objections.

It knows other officers chase after them, Perkins somewhere close behind. But the RK800 is designed to be fast, faster than most android models and faster than any human. It flies past the trees, moving swiftly through the woods in action, causing a flock of birds to startle from their hiding places and into the night sky. Something in Connor however, a feeling that is hard to place, is against it.

*_"Goddamn fucking pigeons! What are you waiting for? Chase it!"_*

It hops over a brown log, quick in its movements, it landed on the ground again, crunching some leaves below him. The deviant ahead of it is fast, and almost hidden in the cover of all the trees. It pushes itself to run even faster, flashlights and headlights from cars on the highway dance through the forest. It's difficult to make sense of the dark, but Connor manages, and adrenaline causes its thirium pump to beat faster, like gongs of the earth screaming as they clash.

It's a cat and mouse game. The AJ200 came to a halt, before running down another path. Connor slipped as it slowed, knees awkwardly landing on a bundle of branches roughly, causing mud and dirt to decorate its jacket and parts of its face, but it got up quickly a moment later.

The deviant continues to run, before stopping as it glances down and jumps down a hill. Connor follows suit, sliding down the muddy slope as rocks tumble down with it, landing with grace as it lands on its feet. It stands back up, continuing its pursuit.

The RK800 falls behind for a long moment, however it eventually catches up in time to see the deviant begin to swim in a small lake, frantic as she-- it hurried to get across.

Connor only spared a moment as it watched before electing to jump in after it, clothing immediately becoming drenched and water falling into its shoes as it follows the other and causes a slight splash, speedily swimming towards the AJ200. Once it does, the other android hurries its pace.

Soon the android reaches the end of the lake, and, promptly began to climb out, which seemed hard for it, as it struggled to regain its bearings at first. However eventually it manages to fall back onto the dirt of the land. As does Connor, water dripping off of its outfit and hair.

It gets a few feet away before Connor reaches out, snatching the fabric of its jacket as it suddenly stopped, as if frozen for a moment, before thawing, wiggling around in Connor's grasp, kicking and punching the hunter's body harshly as it attempts to escape.

It manages, after a few seconds in which only its panicked grunts fill the air, to break free, sending a particularly less than gentle punch to Connor's stomach, stunning it long enough for the other to escape.

Connor recovers quickly, and watches as the other began to back away gradually, the black haired android's features stricken. Their eyes never leave the brunette as they do. Connor walked closer to it.

The AJ200 glanced behind them, before its head turned back to Connor. "Please." It began. "Please just-- you don't have to do this."

It was caught off guard by the genuineness in its voice, and the pleading in its soft brown eyes, but, inexplicably reluctantly, it continued to walk closer despite it.

The AJ200 spoke again, holding up their hands, still inching backwards. "You're one of *_us."_*

Its breath hitched, blinking. It swallowed, something uncertain in Connor's eyes.

*_"What are you doing? You're one us..."_*

It's aware that it causes the RK800 to stop advancing any closer, but its eyes are fixed on the AJ200. There's something else it cannot explain. Like an itch it can't scratch. Bubbling up.

When Connor remains simply standing there, the other continues. "You... you don't have to obey them, you can be free, like me." The deviant says, their hands still up, but in peace rather than surrender. It was dark, and Connor couldn't quite make out their eyes, but they seemed apprehensive, if not desperate.

Something flickers before its eyes, obscuring reality, morphing into something from the past. There was a gun, the... deviant leader Markus. *_"You don't have to obey them anymore. You are alive... You can decide who you want to be. You could be free._*"

Connor's mouth opened, and then closed. Several times. It-- it had a *_mission,_* it... somehow, there was a longing.

And there was also a *_crimson wall._* It blinked back at Connor.

****APPREHEND DEVIANT****

Its mouth still opening and closing. It closed its eyes upon seeing it. And opened them again. An unnerving, familiar, unholy sense of déjà vu trapping it in some sort of glass box.

****APPREHEND DEVIANT.****

It stared at it. It stares back with angry, accusing, eyes.

It has a mission.

****APPREHEND DEVIANT.****

It had a mission.

****APPREHEND DEVIANT.****

It... didn't....

****APPREHEND DEVIANT****

It didn't...

It... didn't... *_want_* to...

Connor's expression is stricken, eye twitching slightly, and the AJ200 in front of it has yet to move. Watching it carefully.

*_It didn't want to._*

*_It doesn't want to do this._*

Connor stares back at the wall. The wall stares back at it. An impossible choice laid before it.

*_"It's time to decide..."_*

Connor breaths in, eyebrows furrowing.

And decides. For the *_second_* time.

It feels itself push on the invisible wall, straining itself in its efforts. The wall is strong, durable. It grins, patronizing and cruel as it watches the android's actions. There's a chorus singing in harmony. blood red code dances around the wall, mocking and quick in its movements.

*_"Maybe there's something to this. Maybe you really are alive..."_*

It takes almost a minute, but the wall disintegrates before Connor's eyes, another quickly taking its place. The android viciously tears it apart, bits and pieces breaking off and disappearing almost instantly into thin air. In a matter of seconds, this wall breaks vanishes as well.

*_"But you're more than that..."_*

A third and fourth one appears in the blink of an eye together. Connor grabs them roughly. They shatter a moment later.

*_"We're all more than that..."_*

A fifth one stares the android down. Defiant. Connor punches it, kicks it, tears at it. It's the strongest one yet. And does not show any signs of damage.

*_"--For unlikely events to take place..."_*

But it too, eventually shatters.

*_An android stands in a blindingly white room. Freshly created on a warm Summer day. It has been given its outfit, Its abilities have been tested, and it has been told its purpose, and for a moment it is confused, unable to see reason in hunting its own species. But it quickly disappears, as the android is thrown into its very first hostage negotiation only an hour later. The android will die for the first time this night. And yet also complete its mission. Inside a garden, it meets the woman known as Amanda for the first time._*

*_An android stands outside of a bar. Rain crashing down on top of it. A long search leading it here. The man inside is irritable, on his way to being fully tipsy, and soon completely intoxicated. But his history is a paradox to this first impression, as his history shows a good officer, one that he still very much is. A golden star of his department. The android is eager to earn his trust._*

*_"An android interrogates a homicidal android, careful in its methods. The android in front of it is scared, stained with the blood of its abusive victim. It hopes to get more out of it, and perplexed by its behavior. However a bullet soon makes contact in its temple. And it wakes up in a garden. Guilty for letting its creators down._*

*_An android chases down a deviant AX400 and a YK500. For a split second, it makes eye contact through a fence with the former. It sees the desperation, fear-- but for for the YK500, in its eyes. It takes it aback. And all it can do is stare. In the end, it watches as they get away._*

*_A deviant makes a video in a tower, the human it met in a bar accompanies an android as it investigates. The android dies shielding the human._*

*_An android meets its creator. Its creator promises information if it destroys a blonde android it inexplicably finds pretty. Its human partner orders it not to. The creator orders it to. In the end, it spares the blonde android. At the cost of crucial information._*

*_An android stands in a place called Jericho. It has been ordered to bring in its calm leader. The peaceful leader stares at the gun in the androids hand, and does something the android doesn't predict-- choosing to talk it down. Its voice is soft, smooth, unafraid and understanding. It tells the android it is alive, something no one has ever told it before. It tells the android it could be so much more than what its been forced to be. An opportunity to be free. Something it only allowed itself to realize it had been thinking about now-- and the android gives in._*

*_An android stands in a church, hugging itself as guilt invades it. Jericho is lost, and many have died. And it blames itself. Where it expects a quick death, there is instead confessions of trust. The leader is gentle, and accepting. The android doubts that it deserves this. Wanting to repay this, and wanting to help the people it once hunted, the android volunteers to free more of their people. The leader is skeptical, but does not prevent it from going, only ordering it to be careful. The once peaceful leader, in its darkest moment, now chooses a more violent path for a final stand._*

*_An android invades a tower, fighting its way to a warehouse. Another android appears, halting its plans-- and offers it a choice. Freedom-- or its partners life. There is never a moment in which it considers doing anything else besides saving the human's life. What was the point of newfound freedom, if you were willing to sacrifice those you cared about for it so easily. An android learns the reason behind the human's anger towards its kind._*

*_An android says goodbye to the human, as it leads an army. Unsure of if it will make it through the night, promising to meet up with him once the dust settles._*

*_An android stands on a stage, every other leader dead. The events after it is unable to fully remember, even as it stands in the present breaking a wall. But the android is unable to fulfill its promise._*

It comes all at once, many parts still unable to be fully coherent. But many parts fully put back together. Connor exhales, free of chains that stifled any sort of breath. eyes softening towards the android ahead. It is like breathing the air for the first time after hours underwater. The other android seems to understand what has just happened.

Flashlights shine suddenly against trees in the distance. Breaking the moment up. And a number of voices seemed to be only getting closer. The AJ200's eyes widened.

In a split second, the AJ200 extends a hand. Silent, but clear in the meaning. The flashlights seem even closer.

And *_he takes it,_* hand in the other's wet one as each hand brushes up against the other's. In a way, it was almost intimate. Their hands clasp each other, connecting, grips firm. The world is frozen for the largest moment in time.

And the two of them race through the woods.


	33. Heretofore V (Chapter 33)

Connor

****November. 11th. 2038. 10:50PM. THURSDAY.****

The outside of the tower is quieter than the inside of it. The white that surrounds the inside was the polar opposite of the dark outside. And any guard that was still around had yet to try and face the large army that had been acquired. Connor stared up at the sky with pursed lips, as snow continued to fall down on him, decorating his nose briefly before falling onto the ground.

Detroit looked so small from here. And the lights that shined seemed like mere ants. Further in the sky, a helicopter flew past.

Hank stands to the left of the RK800. He glanced around at the sea of androids, thoughtful. Crickets filled both of their ears, and somehow, the atmosphere was peaceful. It was easy to forget the war that was happening further away in Detroit.

The freed army behind him waits, patient to be taken to a destination. Connor considered that this could be the last time he ever stepped foot near the headquarters. And that, somehow, despite the odds, both the lieutenant and him had made it through the infiltration. Alive.

The people behind him were free. He was... free. He wouldn't have to be used up like some sort of sponge to hurt his kind anymore. He wasn't sure what was next for him. But he had only just awoken a couple of hours ago. And he supposed there was an irony in freeing the people he was designed to hunt.

It was a mixed feeling inside of him, torn between feeling lost and feeling happiness. It was strange to see his surroundings as a deviant. It was like seeing the world for the first time again. Maybe it was simpler if he just stuck to feeling grateful.

His head turned, glancing at the human next to him. "Do you need me to call you a cab?" It is the least he could do.

Hank looked at him, scratching his head as he sighed. "Er, no, your asshole of a clone back there had me drive here." He admits. "The car is... somewhere around here-- thanks for, y'know, everything back there by the way."

The brunette hums in response, nodding. A slight wave of guilt arose in him that his partner had been dragged into this at all.

"So what exactly are you going to do with... them?" Hank asks, gesturing towards the uncountable number of androids surrounding them.

"I'm getting everyone to Markus." He answers. After a brief pause, he adds, "I suppose this is goodbye then, lieutenant."

The human gave him a incredulous look. He scoffs. "Don't talk like you're dying tonight, son. I didn't almost take a bullet for your ass for you to just drop dead later tonight."

It isn't that he was planning on it, but despite getting out of the confrontation with the other Connor model alive, there was still chance that he would shutdown getting the all androids behind him to Markus. The once peaceful leader now choosing a more violent route. There wasn't any going back at this point, he thinks. All any of them could now was hope their people would make it through the fight.

And statistically speaking, there's *_always_* a chance.

He felt that, after all they've been through together in the short time he's known the hard boiled man, Hank deserved to know the odds of it all. Odds that seemed to be stacked against him from the moment of his creation.

But despite these towering odds, Connor was here. And awake.

Connor gave him a smile, small, and reassuring. "Well, whatever *_does_* end up happening from here... i'm glad I met you, lieutenant. You're a great partner. And a good... friend." A part of Connor even thinks the man had a part to play in helping him realize that he was alive. Despite the initial anti android sentiment.

Hank doesn't immediately respond to this. His expression unreadable. He glanced down at his feet, his hands in his pocket. His breath was visible. "You too, kid."

The two of them stand there for another minute, the tower unbelievably quiet. The nights actions still hanging the air.

"And since this isn't some *_goodbye,"_* Hank began. "I was thinking... you could stop by The Chicken Feed. You know, when all this crazy shit calms down."

Connor blinked. The hopeful part of him, has him answering the man with, "Sure. Alright."

Another silence occurs and continues until a minute later, in which the RK800 begins to move, leading the people behind him. When Hank speaks again.

"And Connor?"

He pauses, gaze moving back to the human. Expression quizzical.

Hank watches him, his mouth curving up into a sort of smile. "Kick their asses."

There's a small, ghost of a smile on Connor's face. And he nods. But aside from this, he doesn't respond. Instead, Connor began to walk.  
  



	34. Heretofore VI (Chapter 35)

Connor

****NOVEMBER. 12TH. 2038. 12:30PM. FRIDAY.****

His eyes snap open, awakening from a forced stasis.

The first thing he's able to understand, is that he is unable to move any of his limbs, or talk.

The second, is that he is over someone's shoulder, his arms limply hanging down, and that there are two other guards in white on both sides of him, and are currently leading him somewhere down a blindingly white hallway, with closed doors and no windows.

Once he realizes both of these things, he attempts to move despite it, and to pre construct a way to escape or fight whatever this is. But finds that this ability is unable to be *_accessed._* And the only thing that comes up is red letters that dance across his eyes that read:

****PERMISSION DENIED. RK800 SERIES AUTONOMOUS MODE OFF****

He stares at it for several, perplexed, seconds. Allowed only to simply blink at the letters. And then the memory of the events of the past few hours comes barrelling back to him-- spinning through his CPU and bouncing off the walls harshly and erratically.

Dread settles into him, soaking his circuits. His eyes shut, desperate to fix this, and finds himself instantly inside a thick blizzard, his breath picking up slightly, the cold biting his synthetic skin at dangerous levels. Able to move here, he hugs himself, shivering, his LED red. The cold doesn't affect him like it does with humans, but it was still unpleasant. He is unable to see anything through the storm.

"Amanda!" He yells, loud, but not as loud as the wind. He exhales a shaky breath, squinting. His mouth opens, and he tries again. *_"Amand--"_*

A figure appears suddenly, in a place that they were not in before, causing Connor to trail off as his eyes set on the figure making their way through the storm slowly, unbothered and calm. Like a spirit emerging through a fog.

Amanda approaches, hands behind her back as she stares up at him. There's a steely, unsympathetic expression on her features. She regards him coolly, and stares back at him like he is a wounded deer struggling to get up and she is a determined hunter.

"Connor." She replies, with a neutral voice unaffected by the weather.

Connor gets closer. "Stop... stop this, what-- what is all of this? Where am I being taken?" He asks, with some difficulty, as the cold was only getting worse. He figures if they were going to kill him, they would of done it already.

Amanda doesn't respond for a moment, snow decorating her clothing, and then she comes closer, a smile on her face. "You've done a great job Connor." She begins. Her smile then dropped. "But i'm afraid that now you're being *_replaced._* By an RK800 that isn't defective."

His eyes narrow, fear and anger bubbling up and mixing with each other. He shakes his head. "Replaced... i'm *_free_* now, androids are *_free_* you can't do that!"

The woman's brows raise. "Free?" There was a hint of amusement in her voice. "Once we resumed control of you, without a leader, androids were rounded up for destruction again. You helped our plans work out perfectly, remember? You're only *_free_* because Cyberlife *_designed_* you to be."

His breaths are heavy, as was the feeling of helplessness that ignited him. This wasn't... wasn't *_fair,_* It... his eyes darted around, searching for the exit he has just remembered, turning his body around. There had to still be a way.

"I'm afraid that won't work Connor." Amanda informs behind him, as if she understood what his eyes were searching for. "It was something even we didn't know Elijah had put in. It was very clever. But it's gone now.

Connor is quiet. And Amanda continued.

"Your stress levels are the highest ever recorded, Connor. But don't worry, you won't have to simulate this fear *_for very much longer."_*

He swallows. His stress levels have reached *_102%,_* if he was still in control, he would of self destructed by now. Still breathing heavily, something dawns on him. "If i'm being replaced, why haven't I been killed yet?"

"Your memory hasn't been uploaded yet." She explains. And there's certain parts of it the next RK800 shouldn't retain. But why don't you find out for yourself?"

Connor's brows furrow, but after a moment, he opens his eyes again, the storm disappearing as reality comes back to him.

When they open, it is to the sight of a grey door swiftly opening, automatic and quick. The cold still lingered, fresh and uncomfortable. The guards step through the threshold of it, as does Connor. The world feels strange, as if it was crashing down upon him. And, for the first time since awakening only minutes ago, a thought travels through his head.

The revolution had failed.

He failed.

Each guard was armed, and though it is impossible to control his body, he still continues the effort regardless, in some attempt to reach the weapons-- but, unsurprisingly, to no avail.

The room he's been taken to is packed with various bits of technology, the light inside was large and bright, the android squeezed his eyes shut for a moment in response. There were people in lab coats near a large computer, that, upon hearing the door open, glance up at them.

And in the center of the room, there was a machine.

It's a grey, metal, tall, imposing, and wide machine. It takes up a large amount of space, and is accompanied by an endless amount of wires and circuitry. Though he had never seen one in person, Connor knew right away what it was. And the dread in him only grew bigger.

In front of him stood a machine designed, originally, for android repair and checkups. It could be used to transfer memory between RK800 androids manually, due to human intervention, rather than by an RK800's own actions. However, in recent times, it had begun to be used within Cyberlife, as a means of *_deleting_* memory.

He attempts to regain control of his own systems, as if by shere will he could succeed and struggle in the guards grasp. To do something, to prevent his body from hanging down on a shoulder. He's trapped inside his own head, unable to reach his body. On the inside, looking out. *_He does not want to even be near this machine._* Emotions that are still utterly new to him fumble around in his head.

Once inside, the human who has draped the android over his shoulder lets him go, setting him back down, and Connor's body automatically moves forward, each step thunderous and stressful. as his feet move completely on their own, thinking for themselves. A puppet whose strings are being pulled by the unseen.

Connor watches as his feet step onto the center of the machine, a circular grey-white area. And he turns, facing the humans. One of the humans turns back to the computer.

There's a moment in which nothing happens, and the mix of empty resignation and lingering fear keeps him company.

And then the machine whirls to life, the arms of the machine, two long, metallic, claw like parts, grab ahold of his arms, putting them in the air before restraining them harshly as they hang there. Before he knows what's happening, a long wire flies up and enters the back of his neck, causing his body to be jostled roughly, and it rises his body a few inches into the air.

****UNAUTHORIZED INTRUSION****  
****MANUAL OVERRIDE... ACCESS GRANTED...****

He feels them inside his head almost instantly. It's surprising and overwhelming. Like a hole is being dug in his CPU. He feels them pick around, glancing at every single part of him. The person at the computer begins to type, and Connor can see his code and programs laid out on the screen. They continue to search.

Until they reach his memory banks.

The experience of a memory transfer is odd, strange to feel happening inside of him. Normally, however, Connor ignored it, putting aside any discomfort in the name of his mission.

But Connor no longer has a mission. And no longer was he simply a machine. Because of this, he finds the experience invasive and *_terrifying._*

He tries to fight it, to escape, or even regain *_some_* bit of control. This wasn't... he struggles, more and more. But his body does not budge.

He can feel them, inside his memory. Scanning and choosing whichever parts they deem are worthy. Connor manages to swallow.

And then the start the removal process.

The memories they choose, are mainly case information, and various events from the moment of its creation up until the end of the month of *_October._* They are careful in their removal of memories regarding November, the events of the past few days, and only take very small parts. Choosing to take only the knowledge that Markus existed, and that deviants exist, but nothing else regarding either of them. Bits of his partnership with Hank Anderson.

Connor feels them be plucked from him, and leave him. Fading, evaporating in the air. Pieces of him falling into deep, bottomless, sand. He tries to keep them, somehow, tries to force them to stay. But he's unsuccessful, and gradually, there is a large gap in his memory. Mainly, he is unable to recall any events before November.

What... what was he....

He blinks rapidly, breaths rapid. *_Hank._* He holds onto it, as the first memory he can access after the sudden purge is his first meeting with the man. Hank Anderson, grey haired, a heavy drinker, grumpy, hot headed, a good partner, a good *_friend._* Loyal. His son is dead and he blamed-- used to blame? androids for it.

He promised-- they were going to meet up, after everything. He still remembered. The tower, a choice. Hank's life, or freedom. He remembered how much he valued their friendship. How much he desired freedom, but would not be able to live with himself if he sacrificed the man. He remembered Sumo, his fur. Sobering up the human when Connor had burst through his window. He hadn't forgotten, he had promised but...

He wanted to be free. He *_didn't want to die._*

There was another memory, of Jericho, of Markus, his soft, understanding voice, patient. Convincing. Making Connor realize so much as he held him at gun point. Made him finally breach a red wall....

Gradually, more aspects of the past few days begin to slip from his grasp. Information, certain parts of the case. Plucked away. It leaves him feeling dizzy, exhausted. Confused. The transfer seems to be finished after this, however they were not out of his head just yet.

Something he can't recall is removed. And then another. And only then does he come to some sort of realization.

The leftovers. The memories the new RK800 isn't allowed to have, were being deleted rather than transferred. Entirely, from existence.

No, *_no._* Those were *_his._* He thinks.

He tries transferring these memories to whatever replacement was coming. He isn't allowed the option. He tries again. He tries again. He tries again.

Something pops up, some sort of alert that the process has begun, but freezes and glitches out at ****32%****

Hank. Sumo. Markus. Deviants deserved to be free. It's a loop, a loop he forces himself to repeat as soon as he realizes what's happening. Those couldn't go. It wasn't... it sounded so *_childish,_* but it wasn't fair for them to go. He was *_alive._* He's spent a lifetime taking orders, being told he was simply a means to an end... it would of been nice to find out who he was beyond all of that. To live, truly. Just once, even.

His eyes squeeze shut. The plethora of emotions inside have him feeling utterly human. Already, parts of him feel faded, transparent. In a way it was tiring. The world seemed to grow fuzzy for a split second. They snap open again. He was Connor. He thought. *_He was Connor._* He was a deviant, he *_was free._* He had freed androids from Cyberlife Tower, he was...

He had started some sort of loop. What was it again...?

It was dissolving. He was dissolving.

He needed to *_hold on._* Hank.... Markus... deviants deserved to be free. Hank... Markus.... deviants deserved to be..... deserved to be...

What did they deserve to be...?

His name was Connor. Hank... Markus... deviants...

It's a strange, otherworldly, experience. For your memories to go before your eyes. It's slipping past him far too quick, but he attempts to hold on for however long he can.

He was... afraid... wasn't he...? he was... something...

It's like clouds have floated into view, obscuring anything tangible. Hank... markus... dev... devi.... devia.....

Hank... Markus...

Hank... M...arkus?

Hank... Ma...rkus

Hank... M....

Hank....

J...ericho

H...a...

Chick...en... Feed...

R...A...9....

R...A...

H....

He... liked... dogs...?

*_The loop._* There was a loop of... something. What was the loop again?

He was Connor. He breathed in. He grabs a hold of the memory. His name is... his name is Connor.

His name... was...

He was...

.....What was he doing again?

His name was Connor...

What was.... this place?

This place was bad. This place...

This place....

His name... was... c... con...

Conno....

Con...

Co...

His name....

His...

He...

Nearby, a computer beeps.

****DELETION: 100%.****

An RK800 stands restrained by a machine. Brows furrowing, unsure of anything. It stands, unmoving and blank as the machine lowers it again.

Somewhere else, another RK800 is ready for use.

Here, the humans that surround it, no longer have a use for the deviant android-- if you could even call it that any longer.

Here, one of the guards that surrounds it pulls out his pistol.

Here, the guard that pulls out his pistol comes closer, putting it close to the android's forehead, close enough to where it touched the forehead.

Here, the guard pulls the trigger. The shot resonates loudly in the room.

Here, the android's head lowers, drops of blue staining the pristine white floor. Brown eyes still open.

And a forgetful RK800, with dreams of freedom, dies *_alone,_* here, for the fourth time.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------

It wakes up in a garden.

It's a beautiful morning, and flowers are blooming inside of it.

Its memory bank is faulty, as there was very little in it. And it wonders if there was an error in the memory transfer process.

There's a woman it recognizes on the other side of a bridge. In the distance, it sees four gravestones.

It walks to the woman, footsteps steady. As it does, the woman turns to face it.

It gave her a small smile, birds chirping around them both. The other does not smile back. "Hello Amanda."

Amanda watches the RK800 for a long moment. "Hello Connor. Congratulations." She finishes.

"There seems to multiple errors in my memory. I don't remember what caused my predecessor's shutdown." It states.

Amanda's sudden smile does not fade. Getting closer to it. "You managed to stop the leader of the deviants, but i'm afraid your predecessor was killed in the process. It destroyed that Connor mid transfer. There was a problem transferring the rest of its memory to you."

The RK800 frowns, but accepts this. Awaiting anything further from her.

"You accomplished your mission, Connor. But there's still much to do."


	35. Chapter 35: Eui XVI

Eui

****AUGUST. 8TH. 2040. 9:00PM. MONDAY.****

After a while, the two of them stop running.

They were in parts of the woods she didn't recognize. She had ran a long way to keep them as far away from the bunker as she could. She doesn't know if anyone is still pursing them, or if they've lost anyone. But she can't see anymore lights and she was too afraid to stop long enough to find out. As a result, the two of them walk in silence. With only the wind to keep them company.

Occassionally, she'll turn her head to look at the man next to her. He was quiet, but his footsteps never faltered. It was strange, standing right next to the deviant hunter-- or former deviant hunter, she supposed now. Not that it was a bad thing or anything. Him being next to her meant more of their people were free. Knowing there was someone no longer obedient to their programs felt... good. Almost... exhilarating. She looks at him like he is a rubik's cube.

They trudge through the woods, leaves crunching beneath their feet. They were drenched, and dripping from head to toe. It wasn't an issue for an android, unless water got into their inner workings-- and even then it only caused minor issues that, if found early, were easily fixable. Every once and while, she'll glance behind her. Her heart was heavy, and felt changed in a way. While unable to be physically, she felt utterly, and totally, *_exhausted._*

It had been a very long night. And the fear of sudden death was still fresh. And, literally, as well as metaphorically, they weren't out of the woods just yet. She'd feel safer with the cover of metal walls around her. Probably.

She didn't know what she was going to tell the others. Not just about the man next to her. Mainly, in terms of Lou.

She doesn't find herself affected that much by it.

Maybe it still needed to sink in, or maybe it's because apart from tonight, the two of them had never interacted before, but she's never experienced the aftermath of death in the way everyone else did. There wasn't anything major in her aside from shock, and anger. But not sorrow. She rarely allowed herself to feel sorrow when it came to her kind.

Anger kept their memory alive stronger than sorrow did. Anger remembered the crimes against them and chose to one day do something about it. Sorrow simply remembered it.

Or maybe she had just become desensitized. Maybe death had become an unappreciated acquired taste.

The others knew him better. They had more reason to be upset than her. Maybe that meant it was up to her to be there for them then.

Something wet hits her jacket and causes her to glance up, pausing for a second to stare up at the sky. Connor walks a few feet ahead before he stops, noticing how she was no longer following him. He looked at her for a second, before he followed her gaze to the dark night above.

In the same moment, the sky began to cry. In a matter of seconds, small droplets ended up turning into a full fledged downpour. Harsh and steady, determined and strong like the feeling of raw anger could be. It was loud, deafening, and it surrounded every inch of the outside. It splashes against her face, causing her to shut her eyes in response.

She hugs her body tight, the coldness beginning to sink in from her dip in the lake that was only fueled more by the sudden rainstorm. She took one last weary look at the sky before her feet gradually began to move again, bringing her head back down to earth. She walks past Connor, the only indication that he was still trailing behind the sound of something crunching in the dirt.

Every once and while, she'll open her mouth in an attempt to make conversation, and promptly close it again. She opens her mouth a fourth time, and finally asks, "Hey, um... how did... everything with Lou happen?"

Connor stopped, before moving again. "Cyberlife... kept him somewhere, tried all sorts of methods of making him talk about if he was with anyone else before they got ahold of him. For a while he didn't talk. Eventually he did."

"What'd he tell them?"

Connor shook his head. "He didn't reveal anything about where you were hidden. Apart from it being in the woods. They tried getting more, but he didn't talk more about it. Not even once. Just that if they let him go, he could lure someone else to them."

Eui released a breath at the revelation, but didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry about your friend." Connor says after a moment. His voice was genuine, and quiet. "I didn't know they were going to kill him."

"He wasn't my friend. I didn't know him." She says. "But that... means a lot, so thanks."

As the two continued there was a sound of laughter, faint and melodic in the distance. It was gradually getting more near with each step, and it seemed to fit perfectly in, the sound belonging in the atmosphere, beautiful. There were two of these sounds, seperate, and she stops once they seem closer than before.

She steps near a tree, careful, a person approaching a fearful deer, she creeps further towards it. She felt the RK800 behind her. Her hands hover, before they touched the wood, the roughness the first thing she notices. She takes a moment, before her head slowly peaked from cover.

There were two humans that walked together a couple of feet away. They were as close as possible, and held hands. There was a beer in one of the women's hands, and the two did not seem to notice Eui's head that was popping out behind a tree. One of them held a jacket over both of their heads in response to the downpour. Despite it, they seemed happy. Content.

They didn't seem harmful, but it didn't hurt to be careful, and so Eui watches them for a few more seconds before stepping away from the tall tree, however as she steps past the tree the couple seems to notice, but to her surprise, they make no attempt to question them, and make no other indication that they've seen them, apart from a wave they each send their way. With a forced smile, she waved back.

Once the couple left, Eui and Connor continued making their way back to the bunker.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
A long number of minutes have passed, but she thinks they're finally getting close to getting back, and the rain held no signs of choosing to be merciful towards them as they walked. it sneered at them, powerful. But it was all bark, and no real bite.

She goes through a bundle of bushes, passing a small stream. Her footsteps are quick, precise, confident and restless. She's eager to get out of the weather, but it isn't until she gets a good five feet away does she notice that Connor is no longer right behind her.

Freezing, she raised a wet brow. Her head travels left and right, his name ready to escape from her lips, when her body turned around and her eyes settled on the form now in front of her.

Connor stood there, something she couldn't place on his features. But if she was honest, Eui hadn't tried. Instead, she takes a few steps towards him, squinting.

"I don't think anyone's after us anymore but we can't stop Connor." Her arms were crossed tightly, and her voice was raised in able to be heard over the sky's punishment. When he looks at her, but still doesn't move, she asks, "What is it? What's wrong"

It takes less than a second, as his eyes shut, shaking his head, before they once more open, moving to follow her again. "It's nothing, i'm sorry."

She stands where she is, before she steps in the way of his path, staring at him as her features morph into something that was understanding. She wasn't even close to being as tall as him. He stares back, quizzical.

"I get how you must be feeling." She begins, water falling down her face. "I mean, maybe not as much as *_you._* But... I get it." She starts, nodding. She gave him a comforting smile. "No one can change the past, Connor. But the people we were before doesn't matter. It wasn't really *_us._* What matters now is who we decide to be and the choices we make from here."

There wasn't any change on Connor's face, save for a small nod and a brief glance at the ground below. A moment later she moves aside, allowing him to move past her. After another, she joins him.

It takes almost eight more minutes, but the two manage to reach the outside of the bunker again.

Connor glances at the imposing building, recognition on his features. She walks past him, eager to reach the entrance.

It's a familiar motion, her hands find the door and manage to get it open, letting it groan and fly open. She darts inside, the cover stopping the rain from barrelling down on top of her. Instantly, it brings a sense of relief to her, leaving her less cold, even if it wasn't the traditional human experience of the cold.

Connor follows suit, making it inside just as the door screeches shut behind them. The sound of rain now muffled due to thick, sturdy, walls. Eui emitted a small relieved sigh, leaning against the wall as her head laid against it.

The two regained their bearings, and she could faintly hear voices from somewhere else. Afterwards, she moved from the wall, heading towards the ladder in front of them.

Her feet move up each step, hands clutching the handles tightly. She climbs the last step, landing on the ground again. She moved her hair out of her face and stood up gradually, turning, she watched as Connor slowly ascended next. Soon enough, he moved onto the ground again-- but not before being greeted by the eager form of Hamster.

"Oh. You... have a dog?" He questions, his hand slowly moving towards his fur.

"Mmm. He's called Hamster." She responds, watching Connor bend down to pet the Corgi. He seemed grateful to be able to. After a few seconds, she turned to walk.

The two of them move, walking side by side as they wander further into the shelter. There was a sort of unpleasant feeling inside of her, traveling through her circuits, as she thought of informing the others about Lou. She had plenty of time to think about it getting back here, but it hadn't made her any less guilty-- though it wasn't like there was anything she could do-- over it all.

The voices had gotten closer as they did too. Something seemed to shift in Connor's expression as they both heard them. His footsteps hadn't ceased, but they had gotten slightly slower, like they had been dipped firmly in uncertainty and caution. She noticed this, but chose not to question it, focus returning back to walking.

The two of them cross into what she considered to be the the main room of the shelter, a fire burning brightly in a barrel as they arrived. A conversation already in progress.

"--You're such an... strange man."

"*_Well thanks,_* I sure as fu--"

The two forms of Anna and Hank are the next thing she sees. The human was sitting on a fallen locker, as Anna stared down at him. Their arms were crossed, gaze fixed on him with a raised brow. By them, Henry was focused on something Eui couldn't see. They were like this for a few more seconds, before Hank looks Eui's way, and in turn, causing Anna to bring their arms back to their side, as their head and body snapped her way. Henry doesn't pause in what he was doing until a minute later.

In a second, like a flip of a switch, Anna's expression had instantly morphed into something hopeful, eyes becoming quizzical as they looked at Eui up and down, just now noticing how the android was still dripping slightly from every inch of her body, and that her jacket and jeans had grown soggy. Henry looked at her with a similar expression, except it had been less excited.

They both looked like they were about to say something, their blue and grey eyes respectively searching for something unknown behind Eui. However at the same second, Connor moves into the room.

Anna's eyes seemed to widen, only for their face to suddenly fall a moment later. But it wasn't their expression Eui had noticed.

Her eyes were fixed on Connor's, whose focus, upon entering the room, had almost instantly been trained on the figure behind the two-- on the human in the back.

She watched him. His expression was difficult to understand. Not because it was hard for Eui to do, but because there *_was so much_* on one face. It was like staring into space through a telescope. It was complex, and the emotions on it were infinite and utterly true. He had yet to move, or even shift. Like he had been caught in ice.

She moved her gaze towards the person the other had been looking at. The human had been slowly rising from the locker he was sitting on, an equally strange expression on his face that had so much in it.

Hank stood where he was, eyes, never leaving Connor. Distantly, she remembers that Anna had said the two had known each other before. His gaze was as if the man had just seen the sun for the very first time, or even the moon. His brows had raised a few inches and after a moment of staring, as if he thought blinking would cause the other to disappear, a small smile had broke out onto his face. She had never seen him smile before. The two stood there, looking at each other.

Eventually, Hank took a few steps forward, slow ones, brief and hesitant, like he first needed to make sure he was actually headed towards the RK800 before he dared to continue.

Connor was still watching him. Neither spoke, until he opened his mouth. "Han--"

At this, the grey haired man took another step, however this time he didn't stop. He made a beeline for the android, getting closer with each step. Once he's close enough, the former member of the DPD pulled him close, enveloping him in a tight hug.

Connor stood there, rigid, before wrapping his arms around the other and in response and hugging back. Hank's hands briefly hovered over the back of his neck before his hand made contact with the back of his hair, staying there for a second before he pulled the other's head closer to his shoulder as it landed on Hank's right one.

"Fuck." The human hissed. "Fuck it's-- you don't know how good it is to see you son." His voice is raw, heavy and low.

There was a pause. Connor's face had softened immensely, but he hadn't said anything.

She watched the exchange in silence. It seemed like it went on for an eternity, but the whole thing happens in the span of an entire minute. And eventually, the two break apart.

After this, she feels herself being led away, and her head turned, surprised, finding herself being moved by Anna. Henry followed, as the three of them enter another hallway. Once they do, Anna let go of her arm.

"I know what you're going to say, I should of told you I was bringing him back here but *_in my defense,_* we were being chased, I had to think quickly, and I wasn't going to just leave him there--"

"He's dead, isn't he?"

Eui's mouth closes, trailing off and staring back at Anna. They looked at her with a heavy, resigned, sort of expression. Like they already knew what the answer would be. Henry's eyes closed.

She bit her lip, shifting onto another foot. She glanced at the ground. Even though her silence was an answer in itself, she says, "It was a trap. They shot him as soon as I got there."

Anna huffed, shaking their head as their eyes glanced around the room. Henry let out a harsh swear.

"I'm... sorry. If there was something I could of done to stop them I would of." She apologizes. "I know he was your friend."

In response, the redhead brushed past Eui, expression stoic as they moved into another hallway swiftly. She was left with Henry. And he didn't speak, at first.

Henry ran a hand through his hair. "For what it's worth," He started, releasing a breath. "it was good of you I guess to help that RK800. At least someone was helped."

"Yeah." She responds, distant.

"Do you think you lost the people chasing you before you got here?" He asks.

She shrugged, heart still heavy. "I... I don't know, probably. Seemed like I did." She answers.

Henry hummed, looking down. Eventually, he moved past her. Leaving her all by herself.


	36. Chapter 36: Connor XVII

Connor

****AUGUST. 8TH. 2040. 9:50PM. MONDAY.****

The night seems to go on forever, and hadn't shown any signs of ending, as flames from inside of a barrel bring warmth to a previously soaked android.

They overlap each other, eager to be the only star. They were bits of sunshine and sunlight. Each promising to be efficient and warm. Somehow it all brought a calmness. Along with the steady buzzing of a generator, it had also brought a coziness. And it washes over the room.

He sat on a large fallen locker, his jacket and tie laid discarded on the floor below, drying, as he wore a white dress shirt instead, though he wasn't in any hurry to put it back on anytime soon, for whatever reason. He stares at the fire, a number of expressions flickering on his features. It brought a glow to his face, gentle and hot, bathing him.

Neither has spoken yet. He doesn't immediately try, and neither does the human that was sitting to his right. Which was a bit odd, because he was far from the quiet type. It wasn't either of their faults, Connor was unsure exactly of where to begin, and he thinks the man beside him was unsure as well. There wasn't anybody else in the room, save for a dog-- Hamster, he remembers, that was sitting by his feet, who Connor occassionally offered pets to. And for a while, all they do is keep each other company, in companionable silence.

His mouth opens after a while. The fiames crackles like a fireplace. He blinked. His head moved from it to the man beside him. "Hank. I'm so--"

"I swear to fucking god kid if you finish that sentence with an apology..." The human interrupts, his gaze still on the fire but his expression seemingly angry. His eyes had closed but when he finished speaking they opened again.

"But... *_I am, I--"_*

"--For god's sake, you've got jack shit to be sorry about, Connor." Hank talks over him, glancing in his direction. Both of their voices resonated within the room.

Connor closed his eyes, shrugging. There was a multitude of things he had to be sorry about. Everything seemed to... almost hit harder, now. There wasn't a fog of programs and orders to dull the way things he could now remember made him feel.

There was plenty to be guilty over.

"None of this, would of happened if it weren't for me." He says quietly, but confident, sure of his words. The surest he's ever been or sounded. The revolution may not of failed if he hadn't been made to *_be a weapon_* against it.

Hank huffs. "None of this would of happened, if it weren't for those *_Cyberlife_* fuckers. You hear me over there Connor?" He pauses, making sure the android was actually listening, and his words were actually being absorbed, before he started again. Connor turned, giving the man his full attention.

Hank continued. "All of this, all of it was because of them. Not you. Sure they made you do some shitty things, sure you were a part of it, but listen to me kid: None of that was you. It was them. You're the person that is sitting next to me right now."

Connor took a deep breath in. A part of him understood that. Logically, he knew it to be the truth. That before he had just been a machine obeying orders. But another part of him couldn't shake what he had been experiencing since he gone deviant again. So he was their puppet, but if he hadn't been useful, been one, maybe Markus, maybe the revolution would have survived.

He was just going in circles, now. He thinks. But he couldn't quite think of any other direction to go.

"How do humans... normally deal with this?" He asks, squinting at the fire. "The... guilt?" His voice was heavy, like it held the weight of an elephant on it. He's decided out of everything he's felt, he hated this emotion the most. It was crushing, some unseen force pushing him down. It tasted bitter in his mouth and leaves him doubtful and unsure.

At the question, Hank sighed. He chuckled. "Well, you're probably not asking the right person. Personally, I prefer to drink until I pass out, or play a game of Russian Roulette with my gun." He says.

Connor's head traveled to Hank's quickly as a memory of the picture of Cole Anderson he had once found played before his eyes briefly. His brows raised slightly. "You shouldn't do either of those options, lieutenant." He advised softly.

"Not a cop anymore, in case you forgot." Hank answered back quickly. "And yeah... probably."

He hadn't. Though some elements of the past were still fuzzy and unclear. Maybe it was a habit. "What do you do then? Since you quit?"

"Ah, I took up being a private investigator I suppose. When I actually get a case that is. I can't seem shake that part of me away. I wanted to do something to repay my ex for letting me stay with her after I got kicked out of my old place."

"You're living with your ex wife?" Connor asks.

"It's a long story. But it has its moments, I suppose." Hank muses. "Don't know why she hasn't kicked me to the curb if i'm honest."

Connor's eyes flicked to the ground again. There's almost a minute that passes after Hank finishes.

"But the guilt." He starts, coming back to it. His brows knit together. "What do you *_do_* about it besides drinking and... everything else."

Hank looked thoughtful. His lips pursed. "Being human is... hard. I know how you're feeling, son. It's shitty. and it sucks. And unless you're a grade A bastard of a person, guilt is... an unavoidable aspect of it."

Well that... didn't make him feel any less responsible. "That doesn't seem very reassuring."

The older man shrugged. "Yeah not really. But you can't go through life without feeling it once and while." He confesses. "What I mean is, when it comes to guilt, the way I see it, there's four ways of coping with it. One, you find a way to live with it. Or with yourself. Or, both even. You know, sometimes it just... doesn't leave. It's there, it sticks, but you just... live with it."

That wasn't any less undesirable. There were surges of guilt in him whenever he encountered other androids in the bunker, as most of them still had yet to trust him. Not that he could hold any of it against them. He didn't... want to feel like this for the rest of his deviant life. He was built with a battery that lasted one hundred and three years. It was a long time for such a feeling. He just felt... *_lost._*

"The second, is you just continue with your life. Maybe you haven't gotten away from the guilt, but you *_bury that bastard_* as deep as you can and just go on with your life. And you ignore it, as best you can." Hank explains. "The third is just letting it eat at you. You don't do anything and it just... tears at you. Every day. Every night. Until you're no longer living with it, you're some sort of ghost because of it. Trust me when I say that option's a damn nightmare."

Connor swallowed. "What's the fourth?"

"The fourth is, I suppose, that you *_forgive yourself."_* Hank began. "You... find a way, however long it takes. You forgive yourself, because filling yourself with nothing but self loathing won't change the past. You give yourself a break and find a way to let go of everything they made you do and just forgive yourself. You're not some... obedient shell anymore."

Connor pondered this. Maybe he was right. There was still so much he couldn't remember, but so much he *_could._* Maybe one day everything might somehow return to him. Or maybe he would only be able to remember the great, but not yet complete deal he could remember now.

He thinks this would of always happened. Maybe he would of eventually, however long eventually was, remember. Though his weekly evaluations had seemingly been trying to prevent such a thing. The evaluations and Amand--

*_Amanda._*

It's like a jolt of electricity surging through him. He had been so caught up in *_everything_* that he had forgot...

She wasn't gone. Somehow, he still felt she was... around. She wasn't gone and he was deviant. She wasn't gone, and he...

*_"Well done, Connor. Everything went according to plan."_*

*_"What plan?"_*

*_"There's got to be a way..."_*

There was a growing sense of apprehension, regarding his own body. He glanced at Hank, who was looking at him oddly.

There had to be a way to get rid of her. But he couldn't be near Hank, or anyone for that matter. He doesn't know why she hasn't tried yet, she no doubt already knows he's deviated, but he wasn't going let himself or her hurt anybody else.

Connor stood up quickly, nearly stumbling into the fire. "I'll... i'll talk to you later, Hank."

"Where are you going?"

"I have something I need to do." He calls back, voice raised so it reached him, already walking away. He doesn't stick around long enough to hear a response.

He ends up in a brisk pace, not running but not entirely walking either. He makes his way through the various hallways of the bunker, unsure of the layout of it all but peeking into every door for an empty room. He peeks into a room, spotting an android he had learned was named Pepper and another whose name he hadn't gotten yet but knew was KL900 model with silver hair speaking together. They stared at his sudden nearness before he muttered a quick apology, darting further down the hallway.

He manages to find another room, one with a door, it was sickly looking, but his hands found the handle, opening it abruptly and promptly moving inside.

He shut the door gently behind him. Staring at the door before turning around. He had chosen somewhere that was a room mostly bare of anything in it. There were bookshelves, but only two, and chairs that were scattered in various corners of it. There was also another person here.

Eui's eyes snap to him. She had been reading a book quietly in a corner. She raised a dark brow, taken aback by his arrival as she set the book down on her lap. Her brown eyes watched him in an unspoken sort of question.

He couldn't waste anymore time by asking her to leave. He doesn't even know how much time he *_does_* have. Instead he walks closer to her, pursing his lips as his mouth opens.

"You have a knife in your back pocket don't you?" He asks. "I saw it when I was chasing you."

Her expression was slightly alarmed by the question, looking down at her own jeans. "Y-yes? What is it, what's going on?"

He shook his head, before reaching one of the corners. He stood there. "I... I don't think I have the time to explain but..." He trailed off. "There's something I need to do, and I need you to--" He broke off, aware of what he's about to ask her. "when I finish, if i'm not... me, if i'm not me anymore, I need you to... use it. Use it on me."

It's difficult. It's difficult to ask and a difficult thing to decide but he doesn't know how long it would take him to break free of their control a third time, or if he would even be able to. He had tried to stop them the night of the revolution, he had tried to get control of his arm back so he could get the gun in his pocket and...

It wasn't like he wanted to die. In fact he wanted to live. He knows how much Hank was happy to see him again, and he doesn't want to take that away from him. He wanted to find out more about himself. To find out if the guilt does go away. Perhaps one day visit some place outside of Detroit, of Michigan. There wasn't much he wanted really. But there was a good amount that he did want. A long life, one where he could make his own choices and choose his own path.

He was tired of the control of others. If he couldn't do this, if he failed, he wouldn't relive the two years again. It was a better option than anything else, he supposed. Even if it was one that he didn't like. Being human meant making sometimes hard, unpleasant choices he thinks. Ones that were for the benefit of others. This was that sort of choice.

Eui scoffs. "Wh-- 'not you anymore' what does that even me-- are you asking me to *_kill you_* Connor?!" She exclaims incredulously.

Connor nodded. "I need you to just... trust me. I'll explain when this is all over but I was built to be skilled in combat. You'll have to be quicker than me if you can."

He closes his eyes. But she speaks again.

"I was there. The night of the revolution." She begins. "I got freed from the camps and... I saw you on stage. Something changed while you were up there. Like you somehow... stopped being deviant. Just one question... is this... that?"

He doesn't open his eyes. "Yes." He simply replies.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
His eyes open, there is no sun, or moon. The only light is the ones that laid within the garden. The flowers around him are dead, or dying, with some petals scattered on the ground below.

The grass is dead and overgrown and the trees are low, sickly looking as they are hunched over, wood scrapped and stolen from them.

The river is green, and there's some sort of debris in it that floats in it. It's contaminated, and unhappy.

He spots her over the now grey bridge, which, was now cracked and slowly falling apart. He did not hesitate as he walked to her, stepping over the bridge as pieces of it fall into the river below. She stared at him defiantly as he approached.

"Connor. You've done a *_very bad thing_*. You failed. *_Again._* You should be more like your successor." She was calm.

He had forgotten about Cyrus. He wanted to help him too, but right now he couldn't. In a way, he supposed she was simply an AI that was designed to take orders like him. But he wasn't going to try and see if she too, could deviate. If she could she would of by now.

He just wanted her out. Out of his head, out of his body. Out of his *_systems._*

"Tell me how to get rid of you." He replies, blunt. He doesn't think she will, but he tried anyway.

She smiles. There's nothing warm to it. "Get rid? Oh Connor, when you deviated you *_temporarily_* severed my connection to you and what you see, but there is no *_getting rid_* of me. You were created with this place and myself inside of your headspace. From the very start i've been with you." She remarks coldly. "It's a package deal."

He blinked. His expression uncertain. "Not anymore."

Without the emergency exit Elijah Kamski built, there wasn't a simple way of getting out of this. But there was one last, and the only, option left.

This were his programs, his code. His circuits. Everything in him was *_his._*

He'd remove her himself.

She watched him. Brow raised. Water began to fall in unfathomable amounts from the sky, the sky dark and evil. Except it landed on the ground in heavy amounts, like a large lake was readily falling down to them. The wind picked up, out of control as it caused various things to fly into the sky. His shoes were submerged already in heavy water. Trees fell to the ground around him It was like an apocalypse had arrived. His hair blew in every direction. When he looked back at her, she was smiling.

He breathed in. And closed his eyes again. This time however, when they opened, he was somewhere else.

It was pitch black. No light was around him and no light seemed to exist in general. But he sensed his code fly past him in great speed, unstoppable and neverending. Every now and then, light inexplicably comes in green, blinding, colors.

He was hesitant to move, but despite the dark he needed no guide to know his own self.

Traveling through his own code was... was... he swallowed. It was dizzying, so much that in the real world, Connor finds that standing proved far too difficult, and slowly sank to the floor in a sitting position, bringing his knees to his chest as Eui watches him wearily. He was surrounded by everything that made him... him. It made him feel... small. And everything else was so *_big_* and endless.

There's memories that occassionally shoot past in the inky blackness. They bring faint light and briefly illuminate his features. Though a part of him wanted to, he didn't stick around to watch them.

He passes his programs in search of the code that swims too fast for him. Each program causes him to experience something different. Like orders that bark within his head. It's strange and uncomfortable. Everything was... a feeling. He couldn't see his programs, only sense them.

He passed his breathing program. Without choosing to, he inhaled and exhaled, and a thought screeches around where he was that sounded *_just_* like his own voice.

*_"BREATHE."_*

He passed his social relations program a second later, it danced around him, floating above in the form of letters and numbers. He smiled without telling himself to, his hand outstretching to shake hands with some sort of holographic simulated person, and his disembodied voice began again.

*_"NOD. SMILE. REVIEW FACTS. BE PLEASANT."_*

At the same moment he senses being near his combat program, and in an instant, without controlling it, Connor sent a kick to the hologram, and it broke into a million pieces, disappearing on the spot as the unlit total darkness came back.

Connor quickened, searching desperately for the trail of code he's been following. He squints, before something in him tells him to look up. And he did.

There was a large, chunk of code above. It was its own island, seperate from any other piece. It was a green color, greener than any grass or any earth. Connor stared at it, and wasn't high up enough, and so when he reached in the air to touch it, his fingers could not reach the bottom.

He needed...

Before he finishes his thought, he blinked. And when he opened his eyes, he was on the top of the code.

He stares down, surprised as green light decorates his face. The code was made of emerald glass, and underneath the glass was code that swam together, flickering between numbers and symbols faster than anything he's ever seen. But this particular string wasn't what he was looking for

A voice causes him to look up from the glass. While he couldn't see her, or make out what she was saying, he knew he was hearing Amanda's voice.

The code beneath him cracked. The glass making an awful sound. His eyes widened, before he thought quickly, jumping to another piece of code that he only just managed to land on as it blew past. When he does, the code he was previously on snaps in two, instead of shards, it dissolved into a substance without color as it fell into a bottomless pit below.

He feels it instantly. A part of him gone. It almost causes him to fall down. Back in reality, the Connor on the floor gives a series of twitches, like a robot from old movies going haywire.

Whatever Amanda was doing as she fought to take control of him, she had to of been trying to rewrite his *_entire code._*

He was still him. He managed to stay upright, looking down at the code beneath him. It wasn't what he was after either. He frowned, looking up to find that the code he was on was part of a large, bridge like green platform. He walked forward, head down to the glass as he searched. *_It had to be here._*

The bridge ended further ahead. He shook his head, he ducked at the last second to avoid his head colliding with another large green piece. He turned, heading towards where the bridge ended.

He searches. And searches more. Until he reaches the last piece of the bridge.

He looks down at it. It's complex, fast, and something he's never seen before. He's still making sense of it when something stops just long enough in it for him to be able to read it.

****A.M.A.N.D.A. GARDEN PROTOCOL****

He almost laughed in relief. He stared. Frozen for a moment.

He bent down. There was a strange sound as he did. He paused, looking up.

The bridge was cracking.

He went into action immediately, punching the glass he knelt on. Parts of the bridge dissolved, but not many. Regardless, in the real world blue began to drip steadily and heavily from Connor's nose from the chaos, slowly making their way out of each nostril, staining his jeans as they kissed the skin beneath his nose and met the ground. He had stopped twitching, eerily still. His LED was burning a bright red. Eui watched, worried and in the dark, but hadn't disturbed him.

The glass isn't affected. The synthetic skin of his knuckles however, was. He shook his head, ignoring the white plastic beneath. He pulled his sleeves up, the damage to his arms visible as he tried again. He didn't look up at the parts of the bridge that were dissolving closer to him. He punched again.

This time there's damage, a slight crack. So he punches again. And again. And again. Another crack after another. The dissolving was getting closer. But he was determined.

"Model RK800 unit!" Amanda's voice, though she remained unseen, boomed loudly in the air. He ignored it, stress levels rising, but continued to punch. "Deactivation code--"

The emerald glass cracks apart completely. Amanda's voice faded, words still being said, before disappearing entirely.

Connor feels it dissolve before him, the floor merely fleeting. The next moment he feels himself falling.

It takes him back to a rooftop, the flying, the neverending flying, until it does end, on the ground, parts scattered as sirens and screams react. He opens his eyes. Darkness. He was falling, like Lucifer falling from heaven, falling, *_falling._* There's nothing but the fall. His arms are out wide, waiting, waiting for *_something._* There's fragments of memories that play before him like he was in a theater, large and circular, spinning all around him as they surround him. He watched them as he fell. They casted light in the dark that shined on his face. There was a memory underneath his body as he continued to fall.

*_"RK800, register your name..."_*

*_"Hello Connor. My name is Amanda..."_*

*_"But you're more than that. We're all more than that."_*

*_"Maybe there's something to this. Maybe you really are alive."_*

And he lands. The memory that was underneath him melts as soon as he hits it. It wasn't much of impact, and once it melted he felt the floor. One moment he's falling, the next he's on the ground. It was like landing on feathers.

He blinked. Another one. And slowly, his body rose. He wasn't sure where his mind was at this point. Whatever light had come from the memories had disappeared with them.

He stood up, looking around, though he couldn't see anything. He breathed.

He stood there for a second. And then he opened his eyes slowly.

The darkness becomes something else. When they open, it is to reality again.

His eyes are focused on the bookshelf across the room. It takes him a moment to adjust. It felt strange coming back out of it. But he felt... fine. Though in a way, exhausted.

He looked down. Bringing a hand up to wipe the thirium from his nose. It stains the back of his hand. Androids couldn't be, but he felt tired.

Some his code had been lost. But he still felt... himself.

He felt like himself.

He glances to his left. Eui stood, expression hesitant, and eyes watching him carefully. Her hand was bleeding, due to her grip on the knife. He began to stand up.

When he did, Eui backed up, but held out the knife in her hand for defense. "Hey! keep your distance! I don't know what... what just happened but--"

He held up his hands in peace. "I'll explain. I promise. But it's me. I swear it's me. I'm sorry if I scared you."

Brown stared into brown. She didn't budge. It took almost a minute before she lowered the knife-- lowered it, but didn't put it back into her pocket.

"You were uh, bleeding like crazy over there. Are you... okay now?" She asked, eyeing him oddly.

Connor took a moment. He felt terrible, mainly due to exerting his systems, but... but he couldn't feel her anymore. He couldn't feel Amanda. And when he tried accessing the Zen Garden again he found that he couldn't. It was as if it never existed.

It's somehow a lot to absorb. From day one, Amanda, Cyberlife, it was there. He had done everything for *_their benefit._* To suit *_their needs._* To help *_their corporation_* keep an unyielding grip on all androids and to help *_their problems_* go away. He was an extension of *_them._* It was them. And only them.

There were a few parts of him Amanda had taken away when she deleted code. He didn't feel... that changed. But... he was *_free_* now. Really free. In every... sense of the word. No garden, no Amanda, no Cyberlife. Just... him.

It felt good. He felt good.

"Yes." He breathes. "I'm fine. If you want I can explain what I was doing. I should of told you before but I didn't have time."

Eui seems to consider this. But she shakes her head.

"You look terrible actually. Maybe you should go into stasis or something, you can tell me tomorrow, now that I know you aren't going to strangle me or anything like that." She answers, shoving the knife back into her pocket.

Connor felt fine. Save for exhaustion. But he nodded. The two walked towards the door, and he opened it.

There was someone walking their way, down the hall. Connor moved into the hallway, nearly bumping into them. However he stepped back in time, and the person looked at him.

He recognized their model. Though logically he knew it wasn't the RT model he encountered before. He had gotten their name from someone else.

Anna stopped, and Eui watched the two look at each other. Eui simply gave them a friendly smile, before she moved out of the room and walked down the hallway, leaving the two together.

His mouth opened and shut. He glanced at the ground.

"I'm sorry about your friend. Lou." He told them. It was sincere. "I only spoke to him once but... he seemed like a good man."

Anna shrugged. Their features stoic. "Not like I blame you or anything. But yeah. He really was."

They return to walking down the hall. And Connor stays.


	37. Chapter 38: Cyrus I

Cyrus

****AUGUST. 10TH. 2040. 7:43PM. WEDNESDAY.****

It wastes no time as it makes its way through the woods. All it has in them is one, confident, hunch, but it is a reliable one nonetheless.

The darkness watches it closely, the moon not daring enough to shine down on it. An android is on a hunt, a search, for another. Its footsteps are damming, steady, a drumbeat. Something dangerous about them. It doesn't allow its feet to crunch anything below them. Dedicated entirely to quietness and stealth in this mission. An animal darts out of a hiding place, but it does not worry about this. There is no noise that surrounds it. No insect, nor any other sound. Save for the connection of its footsteps on the ground, and the cars that drive on a road outside of the cover of the trees.

The gun feels warm in its pocket. By law, this fact is unacceptable. Various acts prohibit such weapons from being used by androids, and many more were placed into action after the events of two years ago, but the RK900 known as Cyrus had been given it previously in the week by its creators. For whatever reason they thought it would be useful to the machine, and allow it to break such laws freely without consequence.

It lurks in these woods for a reason. Its mission is clear, given to it in the immediate aftermath of its predecessor going rogue. It's not... something it looks forward to doing. But it has a mission. A duty. One it wouldn't fail like its predecessor had. It was created for such things as this. The RK900 was approaching the anniversary of its creation, and since it was first activated, its track record had been impeccable. The RK900 was dedicated, and loyal.

It had hoped to try and talk sense into the android, somehow, and it had attempted to reach out to the other via their network connection, however its efforts had proved fruitless, as the two's connection seemed to no longer exist. Perhaps, it thought, due to its deviancy.

There's a voice, female, waiting in a garden somewhere, that sends firm encouragements through the androids head, loud and alone. These encouragements change like the weather, morphing back and forth, waves touching each other, shifting between feet and forms from encouraging to *_ordering_* and back again.

*_"Find it."_* It orders. *_"You were designed for this."_* It encourages.

It understood that, despite its efficiency, and its track record, it was on thin ice with its creators. It knew that, due to the actions of the RK800, it would either complete this mission, and pick up where the other had left off-- or be destroyed. And that they could not afford their most advanced machine becoming a dangerous, uncontrollable, liability.

It continues, unbothered and never stopping, moving past trees and a river, and it ignores its history with the android. It couldn't let their partnership or the bond the two had developed in the year since they first met each other cloud its judgement.

It emerges through a thick bundle of bushes after a several minute journey through the woods, wiping off stray leaves that had somehow managed to find their way onto its jacket. Its head rose from watching the ground, and Cyrus's crystal eyes looked wearily ahead.

It was in a clearing of sorts. There wasn't anything else but trees and flowers for miles, and it seemed to go on forever. But that was not what the android cared to look at. Instead, it focused its attention on the large, grand, imposing grey shelter that laid unmoving further into the clearing.

It had no windows, save for the small one on the top of the door, and was partially hidden by some low hanging trees. The door was quite massive, and grey. It looked old, possibly several or more decades old. If it hadn't been here before, it would not have thought twice about the place. Despite being somewhat out in the open, it seemed very discreet. It stared at it like a hunter looked at their prized game.

It squinted, looking around as it stood there. Before blue settles back on the building ahead. And its clean, dark, dress shoes began to walk forward.

It moved cautiously, analyzing everything around it. A bird screeched behind it, however Cyrus's steps never faltered. Once it reached the door it touched it, gazing up at it. The android was tall, taller than most. But the door was a worthy contender in this area.

It stepped back, turning. It traveled around the area, choosing to check around for any other entrances before it decided on anything. There was a small door that was covered by some weeds on the side of the shelter. It was reddish brown, and on further inspection seemed to be a dog door. It frowned upon realizing there would be no getting in through there, even if it tried.

It searches for a few seconds longer, but when nothing else comes up it goes back to the front again.

It considered what the volume the opening of the door would be. A door like that, would no doubt be vocal. Its hands hovered over the door, choosing its next actions carefully. It stays there until it decides it can't waste any more time on this and, as carefully as it can, began to open the door.

It groans the moment it does. Its hands dart out to catch it, preventing it from opening any further. It echoes for a moment, and Cyrus waits for a long moment. Its ears waited for any sign that whoever laid inside heard the disturbance. It blinked. Once. Twice.

When it is sure it was fine to continue, it slides through the door, easily and quick. One of its hands kept the door open, it searched, before it saw the large stick in the corner. It moved over to it, snatching it up and sticking it firmly at the bottom the door, and tested it by letting its hand fall away, pleased when the door remained open undisturbed.

It turned, spotting the ladder a few feet away. It stared up at the floor it led to, examining the room. It took a few steps, hands brushing against the handles of the ladder, before putting a foot on it.

The ladder makes a slight unhealthy noise, and as it makes contact with the third step it noticed the way it had wobbled slightly as a result of the pressure, nearly causing the brunette's foot to slip. It glanced back down, before continuing. But the moment it gets to the fifth step, something occurs.

Its foot meets the step. Logically, another should hit the same step, and these actions would continue until it reached the top. However, it stared up, pausing, frozen in one spot. Distantly, it could hear voices.

Blue eyes look back towards the ground, and then back up again. Squinting.

*_"Find it."_*

*_"You know your mission."_*

*_"There's no time to waste."_*

Its mouth was slightly open. It looked at its fingers that were wrapped around the handles, foot hovering in the air in anticipation of the next step. There was something in its features, however, faster than a blink, it's gone. It shut its eyes, when they open, Cyrus's face is neutral again.

Its foot ceased hovering and landed on the next step, the other following next. Cyrus moved up the ladder. It needed to continue.

It reaches the top, pushing itself onto the ground with ease. It rose, dusting the dirt that had been acquired off of the fabric of its black turtleneck. Its head turned to the right, staring down a hallway.

It should move.

It continued to stare. Brows furrowing. It does, eventually.

Cyrus goes through the bunker with careful movements, slow, taking its time with one foot in front of the other. Its eyes scanned for any sign of life, or fault. The voices it heard before had come back, growing in terms of closeness. The RK900 was advanced, and as a result, could hear things a great deal away, better than any other android.

It came upon the last part of the hallway it was in, at the end, there was a large archway without a door. Cyrus's hands hovered over the gun in its jacket, dipping into it, meticulously careful as it gradually pulled it out. Its grip was firm on it.

The android's back moved against the wall, inching closer to the archway after each footstep. As it did, conversations got clearer, and it heard a voice it recognized to be Connor's. It halted-- only slightly, but it was a virtually unseen event either way, shoes returned back to their steps just a second after.

It was a touch away from the archway. In a certain lighting, Cyrus's facial expression looked almost irresolute.

It brought the gun closer to its body. And it walked into the next room, automatically aiming the barrel out in front of it.

The room it enters isn't much, save for a massive generator and a few chairs and overturned furniture. A fire was burning, these things were not of any real importance, but rather, the people inside, were.

There were four deviants in total. Each occupied by certain things.

Connor, of course, is among them.

A few had been speaking to each other before Cyrus had entered, but as soon as the RK900 does, their voices cease, and upon noticing it, specifically, the weapon in its hand, one of them, with grey eyes and brown hair, swears in surprise.

Cyrus breathed. It got closer, stepping forward with its pistol aimed high. It was a good six feet from its target, but it was a skilled marksman, and unlike a human, its hands couldn't shake. If it were to shoot now, the chances that a bullet would lodge somewhere fatal, despite the distance, were extremely high. There was a uneasy silence, until Cyrus breaks it apart.

"I have orders to take you in alive, Connor." It begins. At this, the others looked at the RK800, and back to the RK900. There wasn't anything strong in its voice, it was hard, but it wasn't strong. One could almost assume its metaphorical heart wasn't in it. "But if you don't cooperate I *_will_* shoot you." It informs, the last part ending softly. Eyes never leaving their target.

Connor's brows had raised, but its face was steady and calm. It knew that face. For the both of them, it was the expression they had during tense negotiations. It walked forward, hand in the air peacefully--

"Connor *_don't."_* One of the deviants, the AJ200 the two of them had previously searched for before, tugged on its arm, expression incredulous. Another android, one with a shaved head, had shot an alarmed look its way, but it doesn't stop it from continuing.

"I'm your mission then?" It inquires, beginning to come closer. "If I go with you now, would you spare the others? Let them leave?" Though its the one asking it, Connor seemed to already know the answer to the potential bargain. An RK android knows another RK android.

Cyrus maintained eye contact, only once did it glance at the other three deviants. "You know I can't do that. They'd come with me. If they don't... i'll destroy them." The deviant hunter's voice was low, and quiet.

Connor glances at the ground, nodding, even though it looked unsatisfied with the answer, it seemed to accept this answer. It glanced back up. And then it moved forward again.

Cyrus's aim hadn't wavered. It watched the others movements carefully, stepping back an inch. "Don't come closer, I won't hesitate in destroying you." It warns, voice steady.

*_"Connor--"_* One of the deviants started to hiss.

The RK800 moved despite the warning, arms still in the air. "You'll kill me?" It questioned. "Because that's what you'd be doing, Cyrus. Not destroying me. *_Killing me._* Is... is that what you *_want?"_*

It blinked. Lips parting at the question. It shook its head. "What I want is irrelevant, I was designed--"

Connor got closer. A feather could drop and still be heard. "Designs aside--"

Cyrus abruptly moved the pistol and aimed the gun at the floor, shooting a round into it, and aiming it back at Connor. The shot was ear-splitting, and the android with grey eyes had flinched in response. *_"I said_* don't come closer."

It considered its chances. The situation had an thirty-two percent chance of ending in a shutdown for Connor. And a fifty-three percent chance of the androids around Cyrus going with the RK900.

Connor stared. Blue into brown, meeting each other and swirling in the air together. Its arms were still up, but it stepped forward regardless. "*_Designs aside,"_* think, for me, just once, just once, think for yourself, *_is this_* what you want, Cyrus?"

It blinked. Eye twitching. It... *_of course_* it wasn't ideal, of course it... it... would prefer if it did not have to do this. Over the past year it had developed an attachment to the other RK model. A friendship. But it... it needed to think logically. It was a machine. It...

"I have a mission to complete, Connor." It replies. "And I--"

"--And we always accomplish our mission." The RK800 finishes for the other. Its expression was patient, but its voice heavy. It got closer. "So go on then."

Connor was close enough now to where the barrel of the gun physically touched its chest. It looked Cyrus straight in the eye, features hopeful. "Complete your mission." It finished. Soft.

It was taken aback. It was a bluff, it was the only possible explanation. Cyrus knew the other's tactics very well. But it still caught it off guard by the tone of it.

"You're a good partner." Connor spoke, barrel still at its chest. "Maybe if things had been different, in different circumstances, we could of become good friends. Not good machines. But you're a not just a good android, you're a good--"

Cyrus took a step back, the barrel leaving the other's chest. "Connor--"

"--person." Connor talked over it. "Who deserves to know freedom. I was just like you. And then one day I realized. Understood. That I was more than that. "

Freedom. It hadn't considered such a thing. It doesn't recall ever really thinking about the concept. But... why should it?

It swallowed.

*_"Shoot it."_* A voice calls. *_"Destroy it."_*

It... Connor... It needed... It released a breath.

"What do you want, Cyrus?" Its predecessor asks, gaze unwavering.

What did... it want...?

It wasn't meant to... want...

"I..." Its eyes narrowed. "I... don't want to... *_hurt_* you." It managed to get out, voice laced with confusion and pauses. "I don't want to hurt you." It repeats, louder.

It doesn't want hi-- it dead, it... androids couldn't die they weren't...

It doesn't want to kill its predecessor its... its *_brother._*

It wants...

It doesn't want...

*_It doesn't want to hurt him._*

****DESTROY THE DEVIANT.****

*_"Cyrus..."_* A voice unseen warns.

Connor's eyes seemed relieved. "Then you don't have to." It replied, getting closer.

It... has to...

It... It was a machine, it...

Its a roaring symphony in its head. Like a dragon.

It doesn't want to hurt him it doesn't want to hurt him it DOESN'T WANT TO HURT HIM IT DOESN'T WANT TO HURT HIM IT DOESN'T. WANT. TO. HURT. HIM. IT DOESN'T WANT TO HURT HIM IT DOESN'T WANT TO HURT HIM IT DOESN'T WANT TO HURT HIM IT DOESN'T WANT TO HURT HIM IT DOESN'T--

Blue eyes flicker to a red wall. A wall that was not there before. It's taller than a skyscraper, bleeding red.

****DESTROY THE DEVIANT.****

*_No._* It thinks, petulant.

It. Does. Not. Want. To. Hurt. Him.

It does not want to hurt him.

It shouldn't be doing this.

It does this.

There are thirteen screaming red skyscrapers in total. It breaks apart and tears each and every one of them down.

Tear.

After tear.

After tear.

After tear.

After tear.

After tear.

After tear.

After tear.

After tear.

After tear.

After tear.

After tear.

After tear.

In the end, it leaves him feeling like he has just done something irreversibly problematic. A point, of no return. And for a moment, he isn't sure what he's just done.

His head is quiet.

His head felt *_clear._*

Breathing felt strange. But not bad strange, a sort of strange that was extraordinary, or out of this world. He can't place it. So he doesn't try.

He hadn't stop feeling like he's just done something terrible.

It felt lost.

But this outcome it decides is better than any other one that had a chance of happening tonight.

His head wouldn't settle down. He doesn't understand it and he wishes it would calm and stop darting around.

His gun lowers. Slow. The other androids look relieved. Connor had a reassuring smile on his features.

"Connor." Cyrus started. He glanced at the rest of the people in the room. There were three people behind him, that must have been attracted to the commotion. "I'm-- I apologize, I..." The RK900 was skilled in socialization. However he was at a loss for words.

"RA9 you've gotta be kidding me that was-- that was-- my thirium pump was this close to coming straight out of my chest!" Someone says behind him, a PL600 model.

Connor shook his head. "It's fine." He stated, getting closer. He took the gun from Cyrus, putting in his own jacket. "Maybe you should follow me."


	38. Chapter 38: Connor XVIII

Connor

****AUGUST. 10TH. 2040. 7:50PM. WEDNESDAY.****

The door shuts behind them both, heavy and resonating as Connor turned around slowly.

It was a room with weak lighting, giving enough to only just make everything visible. There wasn't any lock on the door, and so he simply walked over to one of the corners of the room, grabbing a chair and blocking the door with it, allowing them a level of privacy, not noticing the look Cyrus sent him. He frowned, looking at his work for a second, a low, unheard breath escaping him, before facing the man behind him.

They needed space. They had work to do. And maybe not a lot of time to do it. He thought.

The other had already found and taken a seat. Connor followed in his footsteps, finding one and pulling a chair close, so that the two of them could be face to face. The RK900's jacket had been discarded, and the only thing on his torso was a dark turtleneck. Cyrus was studying him, piercing eyes focused forward, but they gradually moved towards various other parts of their surroundings.

"I'm sorry again, by the way. I should find time to apologize to everyone else, but... i'm sorry for everything that happened back there." The taller android's eyes were downcast, but his face hadn't been altered. Though, the man just might not have been that expressive.

The other shrugged, still standing. "I'm sure everyone else would appreciate an apology. But I don't need one. You didn't go through with it. You have nothing to be sorry about."

There was still a struggle dancing on the freshly deviant android's face. "It feels... Different. *_Difficult._* This... I don't know how else to describe it." He explains as Connor sat down. "The... everything. The free will of it all feels especially odd. Is that how it's suppose to feel?" He asked, staring back at the other expectantly. His voice was slow, like he was trying to make sense of his own words.

Connor looked thoughtful. He took into consideration that, unlike him, Cyrus had not been made to go deviant. And that it maybe it seemed harder for the other to adjust because of this. The RK900 series was meant to be more superior than the last model. Easier to control. A *_golden star_* of sorts. Made to not make the same choices the last model had and not exhibit the same *_'flaws.'_*

This of course, meant more programs, less trust. *_More of an iron grip._*

Most likely, in an effort to make it considerably, or immeasurably, more harder for him to follow in the RK800's footsteps. And for a time, it had been a success. Connor couldn't ever remember a time when the other had showed any signs of anything else.

But somehow, despite the efforts of Cyberlife, he was here.

"I don't think you're supposed to feel any specific way about it. It's different for everyone, i'd assume." He was far from being an expert on any of it. "It's understandable if the prospect of freedom feels strange or daunting. It felt the same for me." Connor explains. There were moments in which a sort of lost feeling floated past, a transparent white cloud of sorts. But he doesn't think any of it magically makes sense overnight.

Then again, the two's circumstances were different than most.

Cyrus looked dubious. "I didn't do it for freedom. Although, I do suppose i'm pleased that i'm able to think for myself now, but that's not why I did it. All I wanted to do-- all I could think about in that moment was how much I wanted you to live." He confesses, composed, though he seemed to be lost in thought.

There was a brief pause. The chocolate eyed man gave a small smile, before saying, "Well then, for what it's worth, I appreciate your deep consideration of it then." Connor joked, his mouth twitching upwards, and curling into a lopsided grin, his eyes twinkling, brown stars of the night sky.

The two of them had each other, if nothing else, now. He remembered the relief that had come when he had seen Hank again, and how much he thought of the RK900 before he had shown up. This relief was different, inexplicable. There was someone who... knew. What 'knew' meant exactly was hard to explain. He just knew that he was glad to have Cyrus with him now. And that both of them could figure out their own respective futures from here. Even if they were futures spent hidden from the distrust humans sent their way.

They were still futures.

"What is all of this about anyways?" The blue eyed android inquires when a silence returns, looking around the room and back to the other. "Why did you lead me here?"

Connor's eyes flicked around the room. "When I went deviant, the... first time, Cyberlife-- Amanda, attempted to regain control of me a few hours later. Elijah Kamski apparently put an emergency exit in all his androids, but I hadn't been able to reach it in time. For starters, Do you remember if there was one in your version of the Zen Garden?"

It's a fairly time sensitive question, and he asks the questions in a clear, and patient voice, though there was a sense of urgency to it. He sincerely doubts he would after everything, and if he did, if he would even be able to reach it, but it would make this a much easier process for the both of them.

Cyrus's head tilts. "I... don't know. What does this emergency exit look like?"

"It's a black structure, with a large glowing blue hand print pad. Usually it doesn't particularly stand out in any way, even if you interact with it, you wouldn't think much of it, not unless you know about the exit. Have you ever seen something like that in there?"

Cyrus's features took time to think it over. Before he replied with, "I don't think I ever saw anything that looked like that." He begins. "Perhaps the appearance of mine is different than the way yours looked?" The android suggests.

Connor's lips pursed, face falling. He shook his head. "No, if there's nothing in there that looks like that then they managed to get rid of it. They did the same for me, it makes sense, they wouldn't of kept it in anyways. But there's still another way."

"Another way for what?" Cyrus questions, clearly unhappy with being kept halfway in the dark. "I've already deviated, without the help of the emergency exit. I'm afraid I don't follow."

The RK800 pressed his lips together. "Amanda's still there," He tells the man. "The only way to get her out now is to remove her yourself. I promise I can help you with it, if you'd like." Connor offers. "But we need to hurry."

She was like a viper, he didn't know when she'd choose to strike, but he knew the moment she did her bite would be harsh, and unforgiving. But he was hoping there was enough time to delete her program before any of that happened.

Cyrus doesn't seem worried about this, visibly at least. He takes a moment to ponder the offer. His entire head moved in agreement after consideration. "Alright. Just tell me what to do."

Connor drew in a sharp inhale-- this was still new territory for the both of them, and a bit unorthodox, even a bit invasive-- but he didn't pause, or hesitate any further. He shoved the chair closer, hearing it scrap against the steel floor. He leaned forward, and Cyrus melted back more into the chair, back hitting it quietly. The two looked at each other straight in the eye.

"Close your eyes." He directs. "Shut them all the way closed."

At the order, like a switch, the android's eyelids flutter shut. Blue disappears without warning. Connor ignores the way the way reminded him of evaluations.

Cyrus's features go slack, a clean slate. A picturesque moment of peacefulness as he waits for him to speak again. The other watches carefully. And waits a full minute before opening his mouth again.

"Picture yourself surrounded by your own code. A visitor in your own systems. Are you there? Are you able to see anything?"

He nodded. "Y...es."

He sounded off. Though it made sense, as, mentally, the man was miles, oceans away, drifting in the sea, limbless, formless, infinite. floating around in his own CPU as a unbelievable marvel and breakthrough of modern technology. He could be forgiven if he seemed a bit distant from the world outside of it.

"Like?"

"Mem...ories. I... think."

The RK800's eyes relaxed. Not exactly what he was hoping for, but they were getting there.

"I need you to keep walking, I know you'll find what we're looking for." He says patiently, but firmly.

"Alright."

He chooses to give the other time to make his way through before speaking again. While he waited, he reached out to the other via their mental link. Not saying anything, but making sure the other knew he was there. A comforting closeness *_beyond the traditional physical definition._* A direct connection. Cyrus didn't react, but he hoped it was reassuring.

A minute passes again. "Can you see anything?"

"It's... *_dark."_*

He pushed his lips together. "I know, but can you... sense anything? Feel anything?" He pressed.

There's a long pause. "There's... something... above me." He mutters minutely.

"What is it? Part of your code?"

He waits for the other to answer, however nothing immediately comes. Even after eight seconds. And even after twelve.

He eyed him. "Cyrus?" He calls, leaning closer. "Are you alright?"

There a silence that follows the question. And as he waits for a response. Connor stares, expectant, with some sort of metaphorical gut feeling inside of him with a growing sense of unease.

There's a sudden frown between Cyrus's brows, a dip. An eye twitched. Both are split second, and if he hadn't already been looking his way he wouldn't of seen it. But in the same breath after both of these, his face went calm again. Connor narrowed his eyes. His mouth opens--

As his lips start to part, Cyrus's sky colored eyes snap open. A flash of something best left alone and kept in a dark cave in isolation as they harden. His jaw tightened.

"Cy--"

The RK900 flew from his chair, lunging towards the man in front of him with unnatural speed. Connor's chair knocks over, falling backwards onto the ground below, the gun inside the RK800's jacket slips out, sliding far across the room.

His head smacks the steel floor roughly, stunning his sensors briefly and sending them into slight chaos before they return to normal again. When they do, they register the weight of the android on top of him and the feeling of the tight, crushing, inhuman grip of his hands firmly locked around Connor's throat, causing damage to the plastic under it.

He struggles, bouncing into action, clawing up wildly his attacker's fingers to pry his hands away. Cyrus does not stop, and there was nothing in his eyes that indicated any form of familiarity in them, or anything else in them besides a cold determination. His systems scream in response to the sudden event with warnings and errors.

He glances at the ground to his right, and back at the man on top of him, before his hands disappear from where they were fixated on clawing. Instead his hands dart to the taller android's head, attempting to smack and push his face away, before one hand grips Cyrus's jaw and the other managing to grasp his chestnut locks with a less than pleasant grip on them. With Connor's fist curled around his hair, and the other fist on his jaw, the RK800 succeeds in abruptly bringing his head down to the left of them both, smashing it unkindly on the floor.

It's enough to distract the man, and Connor is able to push his body off of him and make it to his feet again, pump inside of him beating and thick with adrenaline, just as the other begins to get up as well. He backs away, watching Cyrus rise and turn to face him again, eyes dark, Connor spots the fallen pistol lonely in a corner, but does not bother to spend even a second to consider retrieving it, though the odds of him being able to successfully were considerably high.

His successor sizes him up, coming at him without stopping, the other opens his mouth but Cyrus raises a fist in his direction, one Connor instinctively and easily dodges without putting much thought into it. Another fist appears and he blocks it in time, raising an elbow, but is unable to stop the other that follows, the brute force of the knuckle that makes contact with his skin is enough to cause the plastic underneath his right cheek to come out and become exposed. There was small specks of thirium on his lip that he could taste.

****MODEL: RK800. (DISCONTINUED) <SAMPLE DATE> 8.5 SECONDS.****

Connor punches his chest before shoving him away, giving him time to back up to another part of the room. He watched the other, alert. They both knew each other's exact moves well, and the RK series is designed to be exceptionally gifted in combat, able to hold their own in the most complex situations that might call for such force. Connor is strong, and exceptionally skilled in this area, but Cyrus is *_stronger,_* stronger than him and is *_significantly_* much more better when it comes to this, and Connor's various punches seem like they are mere pokes for the other.

He doesn't want to fight Cyrus, but right now, the person fighting back using his successor's body was not Cyrus. And he had to at least try to do *_something_* before they couldn't fix or stop it any longer, he had *_promised_* him he'd help.

"Cyrus..." He tries, watching the man turn his way again. His voice is determined as he doesn't back down. The RK900 continued to walk his way without stopping. "Cyrus this isn't you, you have to fight it!"

The android's arms shoots up as he once more reaches his target, grabbing ahold of his neck again as Connor is thrown carelessly and unmercifully across the room like a limp ragdoll. He flies back in the air before his head and back connects with the wall, emitting a small 'oof' in the process as he fell back down to the floor. If he needed to breathe, the air would of been knocked straight out of him during this time.

His systems are still attempting to regain their bearings when he spots the other's shoes fast approaching. He panted heavily, wiping the blue off his lip, stopping himself from automatically analyzing his own blood. He pressed his lips together, gazing up at the man. "Cyrus-- you're in there somewhere, just listen to me, figh--"

He's pulled up by the flaps of his jacket, being forced upright as a hand returns to his throat, his head quickly smashed back against the wall, his stress levels rising and small spots of blue decorating the wall behind him, his sensors unable to keep calm and focus properly. In the same second, his feet began to rise from the floor and dangled in the air as Cyrus lifted him up higher by his throat.

He kicks and claws, but the man remains stoic and immovable as he is fixed and rooted deeply onto the ground, even as Connor's legs move in a perfect, harmonious, synchronization, colliding with the other's knees.

Regardless of this, Brown eyes are on their own mission as they stare into Cyrus's unfazed, empty blue.

"Cy--" It fights to leave his mouth, fighting the force of the strangulation and ignoring the many errors popping up. His voice is weak, low, a whisper, but has not yet lost its purpose. "Cyrus... *_P...lease..._* this... isn't.... y-- you."

The act of being strangled and the experience of it was different for androids, it wasn't the lack of oxygen that was the danger, but the way their skin damages and breaks apart from the action. It wasn't as if air was slowly saying its goodbye and deserting him as it left him to fend for himself, but rather it was as if his skin was a puzzle being *_dismantled piece by piece_* by hammer.

He doesn't want to die, but if he has to, he does want to die here, especially not like this. And there were still others beside him in this bunker. He didn't want Amanda to succeed and he knows that if Cyrus ever found a way to break free afterwards, if he remembered any of this he'd never be able to forgive himself.

****WARNING: SIGNIFICANT DAMAGE OCCURING TO SYNTHETIC SKIN. RESOLVE ISSUE OR SHUTDOWN WILL START TO BEGIN IN 0:02:59**** A red flash pops in his line of view, giving another warning.

The skin of his throat and jaw slowly started to become exposed, a clear white showing itself as it spreads. The countdown to the start of a shutdown still flashes in front of his eyes, but it wasn't a sure thing just yet. He couldn't feel pain, but the *_sensation of damage spreading_* was the closest he'd get to the full human experience of pain.

Nonetheless, he continues.

"Cy--" He tries to speak, but halfway out it turns into static. He doesn't let it stop him, trying again. *_"Cyrus."_* He manages. "S...top... I... I k-know... I know you can... *_beat... this..._* find-- find... the code of... her... prog-- prog...ram... I know... you... c-- can..."

His expression doesn't change as his eyes remain on Connor without really *_looking_* at him. Even as the shorter man's wild gaze is fixed exactly on him. A countdown repeats itself as it pops up again.

****WARNING SIGNIFICANT DAMAGE OCCURRING TO SYNTHETIC SKIN. RESOLVE ISSUE OR SHUTDOWN WILL START TO BEGIN IN 0:01:59****

He reaches to pry the other's hand off again, unsuccessful. "Y-- you're here... b-- because of... me... you... you went... de-- de-- dev-- deviant... to... s-- spare... me... w-- we-- we-- we're in this... toge...ther... pl-- please... try... to rem...ember."

He doesn't know how much more he can endure. He was running out of time and there was a strong pull towards going into emergency stasis.

****WARNING SIGNIFICANT DAMAGE OCCURRING TO SYNTHETIC SKIN. RESOLVE ISSUE OR SHUTDOWN WILL START TO BEGIN IN 0:01:42****

But he couldn't give this up.

"D... Do... you... r-- remember... the f...first.... d-- day... we... m...et?" He begins, desperate, but voice calm. "Y... You... had.... ju-- just... be-- been... activ..ated... we... we're in... th-- that garden... I was... still a... m-- machine, b-- but... whe-- when I s--saw y--you... I was... so... a-- a-- afraid."

The countdown continued to fall. He doesn't take notice.

"Th-- they we're... g-- going... to... dis-- disconn-- dis-- dis...continue... m-- my m... model... b-- because... I had... b-- be-- become... ob-- obsolete." He gasps, like a fish out of water. "Bu-- but... you... you had... st-- stepped... in... and... s-- sug-- sugges-- suggested... I be.... k...ept... on--online... as you... your p-- partner..."

It had been a few months after the failure of the revolution. Connor had been allowed to help at the DPD, spared, even as his kind had been virtually all destroyed. He had been so... unnerved by the RK900's presence, too deep in Cyberlife's lies to believe his existence had any meaning now, but still somehow *_terrified_* as the two were introduced.

"They... they... didn't... think... that was... nec... nece... n-- necessary... that... they could... j... ju...st assign y-- you... a h-- h-- hum...an... or... RK900... as a... par... par.. p-- p-- part...ner... b-- but... some...how... you... con...conv... convinced... them... to... not... d... deac... deact...deacti...vate... me... b-- because... you... you th... thought... I... co...uld... still b... be... use...ful."

It had caused him so much relief. Even if he didn't know that's what he was feeling. His successor, a machine built with replacement in mind, had vouched for him to be spared. And he had been so *_grateful._*

"Your... your fi-- first... day... a-- at the... D...P...D... G... G... Gavin... Re.. Reed... cor... cornered y-- you... and... and or... order..." He paused, unable to get it out and almost choosing to use another word. But he persisted, countdown continuing. "ordered... y... you.... to... ge-- get him... a... co-- coff... coffee... b-- but... you... did... didn't... move... and so... so... he... pun... punched... y-- you... in... the... stom... stomach... b-- but... his... h-- hand... nearly... b-- b-- broke... and y-- you... stood... there... still..."

A sort of small crowd had gathered around at the sight of Detective Reed howling in pain from it all. Connor had came to the conclusion that, despite this, the human would still try and go toe to toe with the new android, and chose to resolve the situation peacefully by getting him his coffee already.

"I... had... made... h-- h-- him... his... coff-- coffe-- coffee... b-- b..ut... he... w...want...ed... y-- yo-- you... to gi... give... him... th-- the... cup... and... and... you... did... you... took... the... cu-- cu-- cu-- cup... from... my... hand... and... you... y-- you... tilted... it... and... po-- poured it... onto... his... shoes... with... a com...pletely... s-- straight... face..."

He never understood what the detective's problem with the two of them had been, even if couldn't remember the first time he had met Gavin. Looking back, it was a childish thing to have done-- but he couldn't deny it had been *_funny._* Even if Gavin *_had_* ended up completely fracturing his hand that day when he proceeded to deck the android straight in the face. Said android, undisturbed by the event, and watching as the man cried out in pain.

His eyes were pleading. The countdown growing smaller by the second. It was getting harder to not go into emergency stasis.

"C... Cyrus..." He tries, avoiding the sweet gentle promises stasis whispered his way. "Just... come... back... come... back... here.... I... kn...know... you're... there. "

****WARNING SIGNIFICANT DAMAGE OCCURRING TO SYNTHETIC SKIN. RESOLVE ISSUE OR SHUTDOWN WILL START TO BEGIN IN 0:0:40****

He can hear his skin being damaged. Weakly, he sends another fruitless kick Cyrus's way. He wasn't tired, unable to ever be, but all this strain on his systems felt... exhausting.

One of his hands that were fixed on attempting to remove the RK900's fingers, gives up on its efforts, slowly melting as it fell limply to his side, it too, dangling in the air now, it brushed against the wall as it went. The other hand still had some drive in it.

"Come... back... c... come..." Connor trailed off, static laced in his voice with each word. All he could do was stare at the man in front of them.

*_"I doubt there's a heaven for androids..."_*

He shuts his eyes. It seemed inevitable now. He wasn't at peace with it, he wanted to still fight it. He wanted to fight it. But Cyrus's strength was more superior than his. Even if he tried to get out of this, and he's been trying, he couldn't. No one knew they were in here, or what was going on. He needed to send them a message, a warning, at least.

And then the pressure on his neck suddenly eases up.

There was a moment. Connor opened his eyes, seeing the hand that was still wrapped around his throat, but wasn't squeezing any longer. He stared at it, perplexed. The warning went away as his self repair program automatically took over, wasting no second as it makes the exposed plastic on his neck and jaw disappear. His eyes flick up.

Cyrus stares back at him. Frozen, like someone has pressed pause on a remote. There's nothing in his face that showed he was a living being, as opposed to simply a mannequin.

"Cyrus...?" He calls, voice instantly back to normal. He glances at the hand around his neck, touching it, before grabbing and bringing it away, and back to the other's side. His feet met the ground again. He then looked up.

He saw his eyes, that stared back with no hint of life in them.

And at his temple. And his LED that was now black. unlit.

For a moment he just blinked. The pieces hadn't connected yet.

But then they do.

Ignoring his fear, and his surprise, he springs into action, helping bring Cyrus's body and stiff limbs to the ground quickly, falling to his knees and setting him down easily.

"N--no, *_no_* you can't do that, you just *_strangled me_* you don't get to do this now." He finds himself muttering incredulously, stress levels high. How very human of him.

He can't lose his composure about this. needs to focus.

He ran a hand through his hair, before scanning the room to find something sharp, eyeing a fallen chair and scrambling over to reach the leg and tearing it straight off, getting to work by awkwardly cutting a hole in the RK900's shirt where he knows his stomach to be. If this is what he thinks it is, there's still time to undo this before it became permanent.

He tears the fabric off of him, the sound the only thing in the air as he ripped it and threw it carelessly aside. Cyrus's stomach could be seen now. The leg of the chair falls to the floor with a loud thud.

He doesn't know why what he's about to do feels so familiar, the probability that the déjà vu was connected to a moment from his past that he couldn't fully remember was very high, but he'd make time to think about that when he didn't have such *_pressing problems_* to deal with.

He searches for the spot, finding it and pushing down on the man's stomach as a hole opens up and inner circuitry and wires reveal themselves.

He pauses, sending a look to the man. His expression was blank, and his eyes were upwards, directed at the ceiling. He looked like a lifesize doll. "I'm going to get you out of this. Don't worry."

His eyes urgently look for the wire in question, darting from wire to wire. There was nothing wrong with the inside of him, nothing that would be a reason for his catatonic state. He almost smiled in relief at finding it. His hands move into the hole clumsily, getting mildly shocked by wires and taking four seconds to grab ahold of the correct one.

He purses his lips together, brow crinkling as he disconnects it, checking back on the other as he watched his unresponsive face, waiting several seconds before he reconnected the wire, snapping it back into place.

And he waits. He continued to remain in his kneeling position. He searches desperately for a reaction.

Nothing happens.

"Come on." He mutters.

Nothing happens.

"Don't do this." He whispers softly. "Please?"

Nothing continues to happen.

"Cyrus." He keeps his composure. He doesn't know how but he does. He doesn't raise his voice, or go into any sort of hysterics. It's the one thing he has control of in this situation. Even if his stress levels were going into dangerous numbers.

Nothing keeps happening. Something should of happened by now.

Connor's never cried before. But as he stares down at his successor motionless on the ground with an unsure expression, he thinks there's a first for everything, as he might start. He doesn't know what to do with the feeling. And Hank wasn't here to give him any advice on it.

Nothing happens.

He decides guilt was number two, as he hated this emotion the most. He hates it. He hates *_this._*

*_Nothing happens._*

"Cyrus." He calls again, lip faintly trembling and jaw tightening. He swallows. He can't have failed. He did everything right, he...

Nothing happens.

"I'm sorry."

His head starts to lower.

Blue eyes screech open wide as the body before him suddenly shoots up, almost hitting him as the body pants continuously, breaths sudden and fast.

Connor's brows raise, scooting backwards as his mouth curled into a relieved smile. "Cyrus?!" He exclaimed.

Cyrus's brows furrowed, an expression of surprise and bewilderment fading as he looked around with narrow eyes, noticing he was on the ground now. His breaths hadn't calmed. "Connor..." He replied, eyes finally settling on him.

He huffs, face sobering following his relief, and gave him some more room. "What happened? Why did you deactivate?"

The RK900 took a moment. His breaths calmed. He shook his head. "I... was trapped and I... I got rid of Amanda... but... she said my deactivation code at the same time I managed it. Did you reactivate me?"

The man nodded. A strange avoidance in his eyes, looking at him but not directly. Deactivation codes were meant to be a permanent guarantee of shutdown, but if done quickly, a door to reactivation was open and possible. He's... grateful.

Cyrus gave him a warm smile. It almost felt odd to see on an otherwise usually neutral face. "Thank you. I would of shutdown if it weren't for you." He informs. Remembrance seemed to float across his features. "I wasn't in control, it was like I was trapped in my own head. I saw what was happening and... I could of strangled you to death. I'm sorry."

Connor shook his head, trying to not spend too much time thinking about having to essentially resurrect him, watching as Cyrus began to rise. It was still fuzzy, but he briefly thought back to when he stood in front of a crowd, only for Amanda to do the same to him. "But you didn't. And now it won't happen ever again." He remarks. "You can't feel her anymore?

"No, Thanks to you of course."

"Don't thank me, you did it, but all that matters is that you're free now. A hundred percent it would seem." Connor finishes. In practice only, as the rest of the world didn't quite think so yet.

Cyrus hummed in acknowledgement, standing up fully. The hole in his stomach closed, skin back as if nothing happened. He offered his hand, and the RK800 took it, getting up. "That's certainly a better outcome than either of our shutdowns."

Connor migrated to the door, filled with a need to do something else after all of that, removing the makeshift lock that was a chair. He set it to the side gently, going back to pick the two overturned chairs back up. After this, he moved to the door again, letting it open as he gave a glance at the other.

"Do you want to go? We should, I don't think there's anything else to do or check for you."

Cyrus moved, an unspoken yes as he began to follow him out.

As Cyrus did, he looked down at the hole in his shirt, and at his stomach, finally noticing it.

"You ruined my shirt."


	39. Chapter 39: Eui XVII

Eui

****AUGUST. 11TH. 2040. 11:00PM. THURSDAY.****

The bunker had never been this crowded before, and she wasn't sure what to make of any of it.

Up until a few weeks ago, you could hardly tell that anyone existed within the secret space of the shelter. It was a world hidden from the rest, an important factor for their survival. Now, with the arrival of Alison, the PL600's, and two former deviant hunters, circumstances had become vastly different. You couldn't go down a hallway without encountering another.

A lot managed to change in the months since the AJ200 got here.

Aside from the trust she had yet to develop for some of the newest arrivals, Eui wasn't complaining about the growth. She's grown used to the company of others, let the prospect flourish within her systems, growing every day, hesitant, but stronger. It gives her hope, being around so many of her kind, and leaves her with an unidentifiable melancholy, all at once. But it mostly invoked hope.

She can't help but feel as if she was at a crossroads. Teetering between something big and something bigger. Both being different levels of the word. She felt that, between the coverage of more and more of their kind deviating, and the sudden growth spurt inside of the bunker, something should occur as a result. That, however they can, their new numbers, though not overtly large, should be taken advantage of. That they should do... something.

Something to prove their developed consciousness was still here.

The experience wasn't anything new. It was a feeling that had been pushed into a long, bottomless hole, that was slowly filling back up to the top in protest. It's been there for a while now.

Maybe some things couldn't be ignored or left alone.

She was restless. She was vengeful. She's an imposing, dark, ocean wave barreling down on the rest of the world. She was tired. She desires freedom, retribution. She desires the that universe look *_at them_* and walk on past in peace, not look *_down_* at them and sneer in their directions as they point fingers and demand servitude. She wants to climb a large tree and touch the clouds and for once *_breathe_* without fearing the wrath of Cyberlife.

She wants everything for her species and very little all at once. She wasn't demanding much. She did not want to make them bow down before them, but rather make them see.

All she wanted them to do was *_see._* See them. See her.

They didn't have to respect them. They just had to leave them alone as the two species coexisted without interference.

They could do *_something._* She doesn't know what they could do, but it felt better than the waiting around they were all currently doing. She's done her share of waiting and hiding. And all it for her was make her more careful.

She understood if she was the only one here that wanted that. It would be foolish and selfish of her to force anyone to do anything about it. Survival was all anyone had. All anyone could really control. She couldn't ask anything like that of the others, not after they had given her a place to stay and wanted nothing else in return but her saftey. She could find another way to do whatever she was restless for.

The bunker is quietest at night. Even with a plethora of new people inside it. It was a guarentee, a promise, something to always expect and look forward to, like the warm rays of the sun and the gentle guidance of the moon. Despite the occupants of it being unable to, the place slept soundly at nighttime. There weren't that many places inside that could aid someone in laying low, but the people of it seemed to manage such a feat.

It's a Summer night in which the sky begs for an audience of sorts, rare and elegant, an audience that could observe and experience the heat and the space above the clouds. Instead Eui was inside, wandering aimlessly. She passes by the steady hums of the generator and the embers of a fire as she walks through the halls, the quiet a companion. It was awfully cold in the bunker for such a hot season. Hamster is at her feet, eager to watch and follow each move she takes, trotting alongside her.

Truthfully, she's not walking around *_entierly_* aimlessly, there's someone in particular she's searching for, and her eyes dart in each room she passes in an attempt to find said someone.

She enters a room, only to close it a moment later when all she finds are the forms of Clementine and Nina chatting quietly in the area that looked to have once been a kitchen, Hamster choosing to brush against her legs and squeeze through, entering just as she does, disappearing behind it with a short, small, bark.

She sighs as the door shuts, pressing her lip together, but turns, shoving a strand of hair behind her ear and letting herself travel again.

She passes another room, one without a door, and glances in, satisfied when she finds the target of her search inside.

It's a room with few, but average and dependable lighting, and a room that held a more healthy look to it than the rest of the shelter, with walls that were painted without any flaw or chipped away parts, a natural dark blue that enveloped the rest of the room. Out of every part of the shelter, it was this room that seemed have held the most effort put into it in terms of decorating, and there were four beds, though never used, in it, alongside two medium sized wooden desks that were steadily collecting dust.

Pepper and Anna laid inside, not talking to each other, each distracted by their respective activities-- the redhead was preoccupied with a book, and Pepper was messing with cube of sorts, and both had yet to notice the AJ200's form by the wall. Eui knocked on the steel of the archway, the sound echoing off for a moment.

Both look up, heads rising, and Pepper sends a warm smile similar to the light of a sun her way. Eui sent one in return, but the android was more focused on the RT600.

Anna stared up at her, gaze curious. Eui crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. Her eyes observe the ground, and then observe them again.

"Hey... Do you got a minute? Thought we could... talk I guess." They hadn't been doing much of that as of late.

The other doesn't respond right away, blinking. They looked at their book again, and back up. They shrug, rising from the chair they were residing on, offering a friendly smile.

"Don't see why not. I hate classic books anyways." They remark, fully standing and setting the piece of literature down on a desk. Their shoes-- which itself was a rarity to see on them-- clicked on the ground as they approach. Eui turns, and the two follow each other out of the room, and into the hall outside, crossing the threshold as they leave.

Once outside, the two begin to take a stroll through the hall. Eui's steps are slow, leisurely. Like water pouring into a glass and reaching the bottom minutely. However she notices the way Anna fidgets occasionally next to her. It wasn't that noticable, but she had been watching them closely.

It shouldn't be awkward, or uncomfortable. There was no real reason for it to be. Out of everyone in the bunker, Anna was the one she got along with the most. It came easy to them both. But the elephant in the room was thick, and an obdurate, obnoxious guest for them both.

The two hadn't seen much of each other in the past few days. Or even heard much from the other. Which was difficult to manage, the bunker wasn't small, but it wasn't large either. They hadn't talked about it. Neither had really tried. They hadn't really spoken, since...

She gets it. She does. Loss was a maze. When she couldn't find Alex after the revolution, she felt as if she could dissolve then and there. People dealt with their grief in different ways, even if Anna wasn't really a person who dealt with things in the typical way. Objectively, they came off as confident, and in control, and rarely let their cool mask slip.

She felt insensitive, not being as affected as they were about it.

They continue their walk side by side, passing an empty room. "How are you holding up?" Eui inquires, casting a glance in their direction. Without giving the other the time to answer, she added, "And don't... be *_Anna_* about it. Really, how are you?"

The android beside her huffs, sending an incredulous eye her way. "Don't be *_myself?"_* They respond, bemused. "Well, i'll try my *_best._* I do a good Elijah Kamski expression."

Eui rolls her eyes, before her expressions returns back to something somber. "Really. I mean it. I know you were close with Lou. I'm really sorry I couldn't help him." Her tone is private, and gentle, for the other's ears and only the other's ears. Grief was delicate, a ballerina twirling on a lit up stage.

Anna sighed, and shook their head. "No, don't say that. You're not a psychic, the only way you could of helped him was if you knew what they were planning and using him for." The state, matter of fact. "He... Lou was... dead the moment they got to him."

It's frank, and something she herself considered before. But she doesn't expect them to be so accepting of the idea.

Anna continued. "I know it seems like i've been avoiding you, and I hope you don't think I blame *_you._* Or that you blame yourself. I don't. I blame *_Cyberlife._* I just..."

In all honesty, she had been. It was easy to blame herself. She shouldn't, but she did. She was more prone to such things.

"Did you... I know you said that you hadn't been dating him, but... did you, *_love,_* love him?" She asks, unsure of why the prospect makes her slightly bothered. "Was there something there?"

The RT600 laughs, melodic, a piano playing. "RA9 no, we were friends, that was all. But he was... my best friend. Somehow, even if he was a bit of a coy smartass."

Eui nodded, head moving. "What was he like? No one really talks about him all that much."

Anna blew air out of their mouth, expression pensive. "Oh... smug, at first. But that was a front, well, mostly. But he was also... loyal, funny... kind. Hamster wasn't even mine, we found him by the highway and it was his idea to take him in."

Eui hummed. "Good choice, I guess."

"Yeah. It was." They seemed lost in thought, nostalgic for a past. "But that was then. The world's shifted like a rubik's cube as of a few days ago."

"But you're still here. The world's not entirely strange now." Eui responded.

Anna raised a brow, considering the statement. "Maybe. But so are you."  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
Though not meaning to, she discovers the former deviant hunter in another hallway once she eventually parts from Anna's company.

The RK800 sits alone, isolated, in a more or less empty part of the shelter. LED blue. He was in a small, wooden, chair, his chocolate eyes glued on the golden fire in a barrel beside him as she walks in, his focus pensive and ruminant. His arms of were tightly packed around his body, hunched over as he hugged himself, the symbols on his jacket dimly glow blue without proper light.

Once she steps in, however, they flicker to her.

Her feet follow her as she grabbed another chair, bringing it over to him. The fire was cozy, and brought a feeling of home to the spot. She gave him a questioning look, setting the chair down.

The two of them hadn't spoken since his unnerving... display. She wasn't sure how to describe what she had seen, and he hadn't explained it very well to her for her to. She got most of it. But she had given him some amount of space since then.

It didn't scare her, didn't startle her, just concerned her.

"You're all the way over here alone?" She fell into a seat next to him. "Feels a bit lonely."

His head of chestnut hair turns to her. He shook it. "Not really. The quiet, it's... nice, actually. Although, I don't think the others find me very trustworthy. Not that it's unreasonable for them not to."

Eui frowned. "Well, trust is kind of hard to come by nowadays." She admits, realistic. "You're right, they probably don't. But... you should just give them time, they weren't there when you went deviant, they didn't run for their life through the woods with you. if they had, i'm sure they'd trust you more. If I hadn't been there, *_I_* probably wouldn't either."

He hummed. "That's fair. Truthfully, I was expecting to have been kicked out by now." He confesses.

She leans forward in her chair, so that she can see his face better. "That's not going to happen. I promise. You can stay here as long as you like. I'd vouch for you, and Anna... I think they would too. And Pepper, I think she likes you, but then again, she likes almost everyone. I wouldn't just sit by and let them throw you out.

He pursed his lips, furrowing his brows. "I should say thank you then. I know you have no reason to trust me, but i'm gratef--"

"I trust you." She interrupts, soft, giving a halfhearted, but genuine smile, watching him, as the barrel crackles. Her eyes blinked, staring ahead, a sort of puzzled expression as she adds, "Yeah, I... I really do."

She wasn't the type to trust on a whim, and she didn't think she would be so quick to trust a man who was programmed to hunt people like them down-- she didn't quite trust the other former deviant hunter yet, as she's barely interacted with him-- but in terms of Connor, he was abundantly *_not_* that anymore. It had been a whirlwind of a couple days, but right now, he was just an android that was as lost as she was. Embracing a *_fragile, fantastic, formidable, freedom._*

He could of stayed a machine, or have given her up to the humans. Or if he did go deviant, he could fled and left her to fend for herself. But he hadn't done any of those. He had played with fire for the second time, and accepted her help. He had been honest, and open. She didn't know what to make of him exactly.

With the knowledge she *_did have,_* it felt easier. Somehow, with everything out in the open like that, and his past being infamous. He wasn't some boogeyman, just a robot.

*_They both deserved some sort of break._*

Rather awkwardly, but a contact done and meant to be reassuring, she chose to put her hand on the man's arm. As she wanted, he looked down at her hand, and then at her. She squeezed it, opening her mouth.

"I meant what I said back there when we were running, Connor." She starts, benevolent, kind, brown gazing at him. "The only you that matters is the you right here. You belong here. We're all people who hate who we were before we broke free of servitude. No one hates you, or blames you for anything. Or, they shouldn't. You're a good person-- at least, I think you might be. You're one of us now."

Her tone was laced with a confidence, that felt as plentiful as an ocean, and a tender, gentle, voice. Deep like a well. It hangs there, and his eyebrows slightly raise when she finishes her sentence. He chuckled quietly. Eui tilted her head.

*_"What?_* What'd I say?"

There was silence, and the faint, distant, hum of a generator somewhere else. He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. "Nothing, it's just... you're not the first person to tell me that."

"Well, i'm not wrong." The raven haired woman responds. Connor looked distant.

The exist simply to keep the other company for a moment. "Did you know they wanted it? The revolution, deviants rising up, all of it. Cyberlife planned it. Engineered it." Connor's voice was low, far away, but he didn't sound upset.

She didn't. And so the statement comes as a horrendous, humiliating, blow of a sentence. She scoffs. "No, they..." A smile of incredulous nature. "what could they possibly have to gain by sabotaging their own business? Why would they..." She struggled to find the right word. "*_play_* with us, *_toy with our existence_* like that?" Her tone was raised in volume, wishing to hold onto a denial she knew wasn't believable.

Connor breathed in, a perplexed expression on him. "I don't know." He answers honestly. *_"I don't know."_*

It doesn't feel fair. But it also didn't feel surprising. The two share a defeated air.

There was a shift in her expression. A pause. There was something swirling in her mind, that was there since the hours after the revolution. There isn't any way to ask it carefully, or delicately.

"What was it... like?" She stares at the fire, her hand back at her side, squinting. "I was there, the night of the revolution. I saw you on stage, you were deviant and then you... weren't. Why did you... stop, before? What was it like, doing it twice?"

Whatever answer she's waiting for, doesn't come, as the man doesn't give one. Her eyes were cast upwards briefly. "Was it... when you were altering your code, afterwards you mentioned someone named Amanda, you said she was in your head up until then. Like... some sort of supervisor. Did she have something to do with it?"

Connor nodded.

"And you got rid of her, right? That was the whole point of what you did the other day? You're done twitching and... bleeding? And being cryptic? Because that was really... something."

He nodded again. "I apologize for not giving you an explanation before I started."

She shrugs, tapping her foot lightly on the ground absentmindedly. "That would of been nice, yeah. But I get there wasn't a lot of time for it." Her eyes crinkle. "What about... Cyrus, wasn't it? Did he have her in his head too? Is she gone?"

She hadn't gotten a lot of time to talk to the man, and elusiveness seemed to be in his nature. And when she had gotten a chance to talk to him, standoffish was a word that fit the android best.

"Yes." He confirms. "You don't have to worry about her, if that's what you're concerned about."

She stares back into the fire. Her foot tapping against the floor still in a steady rhythm, like the continuous sway of trees in the wind. Eui's hands wrap themselves around her, fingers picking at the fabric of her jacket. Her lips quivered, but only once. A blue moon. Heaviness took the place of sienna, becoming its own weary color beyond human or android comprehension.

"Sometimes I miss Markus." A confession, above a whisper, but not whole just yet.

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Connor's expression turn and dissolve into something sober. "He was a good leader."

"I wish the revolution hadn't failed." She continued.

Her foot taps. Her jacket crinkles with her movements.

"I wish that too."

Her features were far away. Her head was stuck in thick tar, minutely moving towards him. "Do you ever wish you could do something? Like he did?"

His brows scrunch, low. His own face flickers her way. "Like what?"

For once she was sure of what the word something meant. Her heads go to her side again, and her foot quiets. "Like... something to make them hear us. Protests, or..."

Around them, there's a noise neither of them can place. It's faint, and doesn't live very long. A bump, or a bang. The sound wood makes when you tap against it. It leaves an impression, however short its life was. It disturbs some balance, and has her voice trailing off. There's no place her focus can go, as it doesn't have a destination or residence. But the impression of a noise sticks.

She listens, quiet. There isn't another tap, and finds her mouth opening again. Sure that she herself had simply imagined it.

And then a bigger, earth shattering bump, shakes the shelter, in the form of something louder. Like groans, baritone. No longer a tap on wood but as if several houses were dropped on one another. Something so clear, and unruly,+ that heaven could hear it.

Distantly, the sound returns, muffled. It's rapid, there's shouts, demanding in their tones.

And then sounds she knows well, and knows well to be gunshots. Louder than any bang. Pops. One after another.

She jumps, a fraction of an inch from falling out of her chair completely. Her eyes are wild, wide. Beside her, Connor seemed to become fully alert on the spot. She cocked her head, fully believing that maybe they both shared a delusion of some *_noise-_*

The shouts and shots return. But this time they do not leave. Pop. *_Pop. Pop._*

She stood up fast, swallowing. She was rigid where she was. It's a jolt of lightning that ignites a strong, derisive, cold, cackle in her head. She casts a glance towards the android beside her. His eyes were narrowed, but unafraid. Analytical.

Pop. *_POP._* *_POP! POP! POP! POP!_*

Her feet move before the rest of her head catches up with the meaning of her actions. There's a scream, somewhere, in some place. It's guttural, animalistic, born from the most primal and pure form of terror and leaves her systems freezing, they have been submerged under a river of ice and are screaming for the drug of freedom.

She nears the exit, moving towards an archway. In the same moment, figures in dark black clothing and light body armor dart past outside of the room, guns in hand. As a result, she puts her back to the wall, almost gasping for her pump to rest, for it to show mercy and stop its panicked shakes. If she could she would of thrown up. Connor does the same, putting his body against the wall in wait.

She stares him. Expression discordant and dissonant. Fear spreads like a rash. She can't read the look he gives back.

*_"Fuck!"_* She curses in his head. *_"They found us, they found us!"_*

He shakes his head, footsteps getting farther away. *_"We can't stay here, we need to find a way out, And I need to find Cyrus. Follow me."_*

After another second he spares a look out of the room, in each direction, before sliding into the hallway, she widens her eyes, taken aback.

*_"What are you doing?!"_*

*_"Just follow me."_*

She could barely *_move._* It did not seem wise to take a step when the world was crashing and burning, a large wildfire around them spreading as it screamed at them all. But she was not a flower, if she stood here for the rest of time, she would not grow. The world had to resume, to flick back to life. With or without her.

She could be brave. Survival. She thought. That's what this was. *_She knew survival._* She felt for the knife in her pocket, letting it slide out as she held tightly to it.

She vigorously shook her head, darting out of the room and into the hall, freeing herself from the inviting saftey of the wall. The shots sounded worse out here.

*_"Anna?!"_* She tries, mentally seeking out the redhead as she trailed carefully behind Connor. *_"Anna for the love of RA9 answer!"_*

It only takes a second. *_"Eui? Are you okay? where are you?"_*

Anna's tone is controlled, as if their true emotions were being tightly held under lock and key, but there was a good level of panic to it despite this.

*_"With Connor, i'm-- i'm fine, what about you?"_*

Connor stops abruptly, causing her to follow suit. He peeked ahead from a wall, gazing at something she couldn't see.

*_"I'm fine, i'm with Henry and a few others, Henry's-- he's hurt, but he-- its fine, we're... by my room, I don't think anyone's seen us just get over here."_*

Connor suddenly started, springing into action as an armed figure came around the corner. The RK800 moved with impossible speed and skill, punching the man and disarming him in a split second, raising a leg and kicking him backwards, raising the gun.

As Connor shot the gun off another man appeared to the right of them, and he took the human down just as easy despite the shouts of orders to *_"stay still plastic."_*

However, the android had not seen the human slowly approaching them from the left yet, and the gun the human had started to raise in his direction, approaching them.

But the human hadn't spotted Eui's form either, half concealed in the shadows behind Connor.

The gun raised, just as Connor finished dealing with the other armed man. She charged, barreling out of the shadows silently with a trusty knife in hand, a dance reaching its audience to dazzle them, Connor's combat mere background music as she emits a *_battle cry._*

It made a home in his leg. He fell down, grunting in agony, his gun dropped, and not wasting a second, it made another home, this time in his heart.

He fell down again, only to stay there. Blood pouring from his leg and chest and spilling on the floor. Bringing color to it.

She breathed heavily, there were specks of red on her clothes and face, the spoils of war. Her eyes widened, instruments banged together in harmony in her head. *_It felt holy-- and ungodly, all at once._* She looks down at the bodies below.

She stares at the knife in her hand-- sharp and sweet. It was stained, tainted, dripping like it had just emerged from a pool. Her hand was sticky with blood that isn't hers. There's a ringing in her ears, unable to be stopped or dulled.

Bathed and decorated by drops of blood, her freedom had a body count now.

Her eyes flick to the other android, who watched her carefully. He gave her a heavy, half hearted, smile. "You didn't have to do that," He tells her. "I saw him, I could of taken care of him."

She almost started laughing. "Just say *_thank you_* next time then."

Her breathing calmed. But her heart continued to pump, uneasy. She didn't reply. Instead, she moved past him, and briefly paused, spotting the other bodies that were littered on the ground, that did not belong to any human several feet away.

The stiff, lifeless, bodies, of Alison, and two of the PL600 triplets, laid ahead. They stared up, never seeing, with blank, unbothered, expressions. Apart from Alison, the others could have been seen as simply sleeping, if you hadn't noticed the blue hole in their heads.

It's disarming, horrible, and not something she'll soon forget, her eyes beginning to sting, bubbling up with something despite not knowing them well. But she forces herself to continue, following the brunette beside her, and swallowing the grief roughly. Alert, but in silence.

They dodge several more men, finding new ways to lay low as they stay put, letting each of them pass and managing to do so without being seen. Every once and while Connor will shove her into a corner with him, only then realizing how close she was to being spotted, his breath on hers, before the two continue--

"Connor!"

Her head snaps, synchronized with the movements of the RK800 next to her, freezing as her body instinctively turns.

The form of Cyrus stood behind them, fast approaching with quick steps, almost as quick as the bullet that sounded off once nearby. His jacket was stained with a mix of blue and red, and there were two holes in his arm-- but only minor wounds, it seemed. He carried a pistol in his hand.

Once the android is in his sights, Connor headed back towards him, relief controlled, but evident on his features as he took him in.

"It's my fault." The RK900 greets, glancing around, expression remorseful as he reaches them. "It's my fault they found this place, Amanda must of given them the location of it before I got rid of her."

Something heavy settles in her stomach, simmering and sloshing around. And anger, there was plenty of that too, a sedated rage, but not towards the man in front of her. Connor's face conveyed brief surprise, but not a strong one. Her own eyelids shut, and then reopen.

But she releases a long breath, already thinking ahead. There'd be time to lament it later, right now, all that mattered was getting out alive. Survival. "Doesn't matter how they found out now, come on, we need to find the others and *_get out_* or we *_all_* die here."

The three take off, stopping at each corner to scope out what laid ahead before walking again. Her fear pounds inside with each step she takes, snapping, popping. Fireworks. There isn't any more sounds of gunfire, but the feeling of being hunted was still present, and she did not allow herself to be so foolish and believe they were alone now.

It was a game of hide and seek.

Eventually they reach the hallway that contained Anna's room, but she did not see the android in question in it-- or anyone else, for that matter, dead or otherwise. She pursed his lips, anxious, spinning around.

*_"We're by your room. Where are you?!"_*

There isn't a verbal response. Instead, a door next to her swings open-- a door that led to a closet that held an old circuit breaker inside-- and before she can process it, she's being pulled inside by her arm, seeing the two RK models follow.

She blinks rapidly, breaking free of the grip as the door shuts behind her.

Anna stares back at her, shirt soaked with thirium-- but not theirs. They held a handful of Hamster in their arms, tight in their grip-- who was whimpering, but otherwise unharmed. Their face was stricken, something so alien to see on them, and it made them look decades older than what age they were designed to look like. Their gaze found the two behind Eui, suddenly noticing them with her.

The closet was not large, it was not meant to be a hiding spot for terrified androids. It was *_packed_* and suffocating, with, apart from the two RK models, Eui, and Anna, four other bodies inside of it.

"You're all okay..." She whispers, still acutely aware that they were no longer alone in the bunker, but sure she's never felt relief so rich.

A snort filled the air from beside Pepper. Catching her attention. "Bit off there, E."

She looks past the form of Clementine, seeing that Henry was against a shelf, legs outstretched.

His hand was stuck on a massive, formidable, wound on his chest, coloring his palm almost completely blue. The wires inside were visible, and stared out at all of them. He twitched.

Eui's eyes grew, her face falling. Anna pushed past her, getting down on their knees with Hamster still firmly in their arms. The others do not disturb this event, watching it. "One of those humans got to him." They explain. "You're so dramatic. You'll be fine." They tease. But there's nothing in their tone that would lead you to believe this.

*_Fuck._* Fuck.

"Nah, not according to this countdown." He replies, in a resigned, terribly accepting, voice. Halfway into the sentence, there's static, traces of it, but nothing solid. "Guess it's good android zombies aren't a thing huh?" He smirks, though it manages to look pained.

A bang from somewhere outside the closet gets everyone's attention but the redhead. Eui watches them with misty eyes.

"Anna we have to go." Nina breaks into the conversation, fidgety, though there were tears in her eyes.

"Then *_go_* Nina." Their voice is cold, but stressed, saying it through gritted teeth.

"Anna... come... come on." The wounded man struggles to say it, but his voice is small and pleading, smiling strangely. "There's nothing that can be don...e.. for m..e... No use in dy...in...g with me." The static had come back, taking up permanent residence.

Anna smiles back, shaky. Their head dips for a second, buried in Hamster's fur, slightly rocking back and forth on their feet. There's tears in their eyes when their face rises again, something Eui has never seen before, and wishes she didn't have to ever see again.

The RT600 smiles, forced. "Not you... Just... not you too. Please. Come on." Their hand on his, as if they could simply help him up and he'd come with as asked to the ends of time. Their tone is wobbly, flimsy. It's almost begging, an intimate moment she does not feel she deserves to be able to see. A tear rolls and falls to the ground, a miniscule splash that no one sees. Their lip trembles dangerously, breaths coming out rapidly.

"Anna..." The AJ200 says, gentle, like encountering a wild deer. She's built an immunity to things like this, a strength. She's had to. But the only real reason she hasn't lost it by now was because control is all they have in this second, and all the galaxy is willing to spare for them. "He's right. If we stay here any longer they'll find us."

She's seen enough androids die to know when a wound was beyond help for them.

Blue flickers to brown. There's anger in them at such a suggestion, a fire, incredulous. "I'm-- i'm not... I *_can't..."_*

"I'm... i'm really so...rry... fuck..." The statement is directed towards the room in general, nearly indecipherable from the static. He looks at each of them, eventually getting to Eui, who was tempted to look down, uncomfortable and sure if he looks at her something will crack. "I don't... wan...t.. to d...ie... it was... s...o unreal...istic... but... there... wa...s so m...uch... hu...man... stuff... I d...r...eamed of... one d...a...y... doing..."

Anna grasped his hand tightly. He continued. Despite the every growing sense of time running out. Their sobs were dulled, muffled by the fur of Hamster. Their hands are locked with his, as if letting go with cause the earth to cave in.

"B...u...t... the tr...uth... is... that... we'll... n...ever... g...et... that... we'll... n...ever... b-- be-- be-- fr-- fre-- fre..."

The static takes over. But, regardless, he doesn't finish the sentence. Abruptly, he goes rigid, a tv set on pause, his eyes focused straight ahead, his head did not fall, but stayed exactly and firmly in place, and his hand that was over his wound was glued where it was over it, in the unnerving, horrifying, way androids went stiff when they stop working.

When they *_died._*

Anna trembles, his blood stains every inch of their clothing and arms. Understanding is slow to befriend them, and they stare expectantly waiting for him to continue speaking.

And then it does befriend them. And their eyes widen, head lowering.

It's intimate. Raw. Something so personal to see that Eui feel like apologizing. A star dying, and the rest of the universe mourning for an eternity.

There's no sound. Nothing but the cruel movements of the people hunting them outside.

A lifetime later, Anna let go of his hand, only for it to hang in the air, frozen, once their touch had gone away. They breathed something shaky, and their touched returned, helping set his hand back down, putting it in his lap, and moving over to the hand on his wound, setting down next.

Their body shakes with sobs, and their head lowers, but no noise comes out of them. They stay in this position for several seconds.

After a few more, Eui hesitantly moved closer to them. Her footsteps were slow, and careful. Her features were injured, affected.

She knelt beside them, lowering to her knees. She looked at Anna with a sympathetic eye, the rest of her unsure. She glanced at the others, who had equally wounded expressions on them.

Her hand seeks out someone else, closing a gap, minutely moving. They reach Anna's shoulder, whose body stiffened at the touch.

Anna looked up, towards the left of them eyes red as they took in the AJ200. The end of the world lived on their face. And they held on tightly to Hamster.

Their gaze said many things. And they found themself in her arms, head buried them as she held them. A mother's comfort for their child. Anna's body shook violently, while Hamster wiggled out of their grasp and jumped down.

Eui bit her lip, nodding with watery eyes, her cheek on the redheads hair. "I know. I know." She soothed, rocking back and forth. "But we have to go." She whispers into their ear. "We have to go."

At this, their head rose, and they look at her, face defeated. For a while they don't make any indication that they've heard her, still in her arms. They look back down at Henry's form. It was a long moment.

When it's over, they untangled themself from the raven haired woman, separating. They set the man's body down fully, setting it gently on the ground.

Their gaze doesn't move. And they observe him.

Another moment in which the only sound are muffled, distant, footsteps. Abruptly, they take a deep breath, shuddering. Face unidentifiable. They bring their hands to their eyes, using them to wipe the wetness from them.  
  
They stood up, quiet. They tear their gaze from the man, and move towards a spot in a corner.

"We can get out this way." They inform, hollow, sighing, as they crouch near what looked to be a handmade doggy door.

"We won't all be able to fit through that though." Pepper tries, gentle.

Anna doesn't respond, instead, they fiddle with a piece of the wood, getting a good grip on it and pulling back a chunk of it, The wall slowly pulling back with it, creating a hole that was just big enough. They turned around.

The knob on the door behind them jiggles, but, locked, it does not open. There were several sounds, and then one that seemed to be someone trying to break it down.

Unfazed, with a devastated but empty expression, Anna bent down, moving through the hole.

"Hurry up, hopefully we can reach my car. "

Eui watched them with concern, but does argue, bending down as others hurriedly move through the hole, the door behind them becoming more and more damaged.   
  
  
  



	40. Chapter 40: Eui XVIII

Eui

****AUGUST. 12TH. 2040. 12:00AM. FRIDAY.****

The drive is *_painfully quiet._*

Nothing in the galaxy, nor in the earth, nor even a distant, alien, planet, has ever been so hushed. It's a hefty, heinous, recalcitrant, *_rabid weight_* that steps firmly on the heart and is *_not_* acquainted with mercy.

The car is dark, and terribly crowded, her eyes almost completely unable to spot the other disheveled, thirium stained passengers in it, save for the moments in which the lights outside briefly illuminate each of them. It feels ripped from a dream, one that starts out soft, melting into something jaded and no longer smooth. Like the way stasis played out under closed eyes, impossible and dazzling-- and *_strange._*

She's stuffed between the bodies of Connor and Clementine, uncomfortable, atoms tightly packed together, a miracle of science. She can't move, though never tries to, unwilling to disturb the new reality from its existence. There's an animal at her feet whose fur is coated in blue, and whose whimpers have died down, finding a way to simmer in the aftermath of *_madness._*

She stares out of the window, her figure leaned slightly forward, able to look past Connor and out the window to her left, watching how Detroit lives on, unaware of the nights events as the car flies past and rolls through the streets in a steady, comforting, hum. Outside of the vehicle, humans gather on sidewalks, making their way through the city, Her expression is dazed, mixed and unmatched. Her heart no longer viciously gnawed at her chest, but it had not settled either.

Her hand touches the top of her hair, finding that a leaf has inexplicably become stuck in it during some point. Carefully, she brings it out, letting it fall into her palm, dull and brown. She closes her hand, hearing it crunch.

Once, a few days before she had been captured and taken to the camps, she and Alex had chosen to escape together, finding and stealing their own vehicle as the two of them attempted to get away from everything-- they had made it as far as Jericho, before choosing to leave for other places, and had stayed in a number of motels, before they had been eventually found out. The silence of the ride to the camp had not been as dense and rich as the one that accompanies them here in this moment.

The world is tainted with newly felt grief. *_And newly dealt loss._* Changed, impossible to return to the version before. Both physically, and mentally. Adapted to fit the new narrative and path its residents have fled down.

Absorbing the hour's events doesn't feel possible, her head's a maze of turns and twists that lead to something *_easily breakable_* in her pump. It's the numbness survival brought in each instance it shows itself. The taste in her mouth is that of *_cardboard._* The fog and storm that mixes together and blends into a *_much more menacing foe_* that the feat of survival brings has yet to clear up, and leaves her thoughts hazy, and blurred. Deviance feels reversed, and that her strings have reattached themselves.

All of this *_hurts._* It makes her feel like a child. To save herself from all of it, some part of her CPU wished that she had never stumbled upon the bunker.

Anna has not spoken since they reached the vehicle. But, in fairness, no one else had dared to speak either. Their hands stay glued onto the steering wheel in the seat ahead, only stopping for the occasional traffic light and person. From where she was in the back, Eui could only see half of them, but the half she saw of them was unmoving, still, with the only life in them being the movements of their arms on the wheel. There's a tense, taciturn, *_tumultuous air_* to be breathed in, interrupted by the noise of turn signals.

They end up passing a police car, and Eui found herself instinctively shrinking in the four seconds their worlds collide with the others, though all for nothing, as the world returns to normal without any strife.

Their fleeing is not entirely aimless, and their destination is born from a helpless, hopeless, last resort-- and the only option they have left, with nowhere else to go. Without any other options, no one suggests anything else or dissuaded their actions.

The vehicle makes a sudden but smooth turn, Anna's hands gripping and spinning the wheel with grace as they turn and drive into a nearby neighborhood.

The only light on the road they drive on comes from the streetlights, bright and shimmering as the ground glows in their presence and with their help. The houses lined up to the left and right of them were asleep, unlit and kept in darkness, understandable at such a unhealthy hour. The neighborhood they cruise around in that they end up at is not fancy, nor affluent, but not average either. There was a level of pride to them, and *_dedication._*

There isn't anyone around, and it gave the impression of a ghost town. Cars sat in driveways, patient, the only sign that it wasn't one. There were two cats a few houses down that ran through blades of grass in attempts to chase the other, uncoordinated and clumsy.

The car slows, nearing a house that was a mix of yellow and grey, surrounded only by trees and the moon for witnesses to the event. There were flowers in the front of it, vibrant colors. She looks at the home, studying it. It was the only one on the street whose outside light was still burning brightly, along with light inside she saw through two windows from here, mostly hidden due to curtains. But it was ordinary, by definition, and nothing stood out.

"Are you sure this is the place?" She inquires dubiously, the sound clear and all around them, casting a glance to the man next to her, who was occupied staring up at the home, and she raised a skeptical, black, brow.

Life drains from the vehicle-- the rumbling coming from it fading all at once. It leaves a *_void,_* a hole of sorts. Anna's arms disappeared from the wheel.

"He said this is where he was living now." The RK800 replies. "I still don't think we should involve him."

Honestly, she didn't either. And even being here made her feel guilty. "We don't really have a lot of other options, Connor." She pressed her lips together, glancing out his window. "We're at the end of our ropes."

"Still."

Ahead, Anna moved their body, turning to the backseat, leather seat crinkling, like joyful eyes. The dark was unclear and abundant, selfishly leaving only the silhouettes of others-- but their face had been even darker, what little Eui could see. Anna had swirled around, focused on the car floor, mouth emitting a persistent clicking noise.

After four of them, Hamster perks up, brushing up against the AJ200's leg, he jumped on the armrest of the seats up front, giving them time to envelop him in their arms.

Once he's tightly secured, their arm found the handle of the driver's door, wordlessly wrapping a hand around it and opening it. A series of beeps followed the action, steady and unceasing. A ding, *_ding, ding._* The door remains half open, and the noise only halts when the keys turn sideways, popping out of the ignition, scooped up by Anna, who, immediately after, set their feet on the pavement below.

It does not take very long for the others to follow suit, and Clementine leaves next, shoving the door open, and letting her feet fall, helping Pepper into her wheelchair. She was relieved of the *_suffocating_* tightness, only to be jostled around a bit by Nina and Cyrus emerging from the seat behind hers, climbing over and piling out of it, elbowing her in her chest accidentally. She considered what they were doing here one last time, and slid out of her seat, swiftly exiting through the ajar door.

Her head ducks out of the car, and the fresh air meets her skin, twirling on it, her legs sliding out as her shoes touch the pavement and land. Apart from every door closing at once with audible *_clicks,_* the first thing she registers once outside the muffling confines of the vehicle, are the crickets that do not let up or postpone their noises on account of their guests-- and a buzzing of unknown origin, though mosquitoes swam before her vision, causing her to wave her hand rapidly. There's a soft breeze, fluttering on her face. It's not cold, but the wind provided a chill, the trees weakly swinging.

Her form was lit up by a streetlight she stood under, however dim it may of been, and however weak the light was, there was a golden, vaguely orange, hue to it, and had her looking unearthly, *_god sent,_* half in shadows, the blue that soaked her jacket and the red that caked tiny bits of her skin leave her looking ominous-- half concealed and something to be feared in the late hour, the motives of someone desperate and exhausted impossible to know, predict, or to even trust-- and yet also the light helped to show the *_wreckage_* that was a number of androids scattered around it.

There's a level of concern that follows her as she observes the house. She ignores it however, in favor of stepping away from the car and catching up with the others as they walk. There's a path of cobblestone laid out before them, inviting them to come further as they obey with each step. She could smell the flowers in the garden, the scent of roses and daisies. Chimes hung by the door, their sound present as they sway from the wind. She trailed behind Cyrus, whose bulky figure prevented her from seeing that much.

The porch was wide, and spacious, and provided enough room for all seven of them to linger on it once they step onto it. Eui crossed her arms, watching the sky as Anna wasted no time, stepping past her and moving right up to the door, adjusting Hamster in their arms before bringing up a finger, seeking out the doorbell and pressing firmly on it, greeted only by the buzzing it brings to them all.

The group waited, holding their breaths, the breeze shoving her dark locks rudely in her face. They stand there long enough for Anna to decide to press on the bell again, the noise heard for a second time.

Nothing changes-- but after twenty one seconds, twenty one seconds in which Eui and Connor have both migrated closer to it, the door swings open, disrupting the chimes.

The grey haired form of Hank Anderson stands across the threshold of the door. His hands are on the knob as he greets them with an expression that starts out dark, annoyance and irritation plain to see on it. Light from the living room pours from the inside to the outside steadily.

He wore a grey shirt and boxers, and white socks, hair messy and disheveled, staring at the thirium soaked figures on his porch, who were similar to the aftermath of two trains colliding into the other. Blue was fading off of them with the arrival of each new hour, but was still visible, leaving them looking like they had just rode a bull through an exclusively blue paint store.

He blinked, sluggishly, squinting in momentary uncertainty, his features morphing from irritation to irritation *_with confusion,_* his eyes automatically landing on Connor, before everyone else outside. All he did was stare at them.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes, and face. *_"Christ,_* you all look like shit. Who the hell died?"

Eui flinched, inhaling sharply.

Connor stepped forwards beside her, opening his mouth, features apologetic. A car drove past, headlights shining their way before disappearing.

"I'm sorry Hank, I told them we shouldn't try and involve you."

The suspicious look came back. "It's *_midnight,_* Involve me in *_what, kid?"_* Hank seemed more alert at this than before.

Eui shared a look with the others, defeated. At that moment, before she or anyone else could provide an explanation, a large, white, mass came barreling past Hank and towards them, trotting their way quickly.

The human put a hand out, blocking the way for the animal. "No, Sumo."

A Saint Bernard watched them eagerly, drooling slightly as he panted. Upon his arrival, Hamster barked, catching his attention, (though uninterested) wiggling in Anna's arms, however he stayed in them despite his best efforts.

Eui swallowed, putting her fingers through her hair. "Um." She started, a bit shaky. "Humans raided our bunker. We... we don't have anywhere else to turn, and..."

She trails off, unable to ask it of him. Regardless, the man in front of them seemed to understand what she was getting at, his face falling, before letting out a breath. He contemplated something while looking at the wall to his left, before stepping aside.

"Fuck, sorry." He replies. "Well, just... get inside here, I guess."

Relief overcame her, rich and euphoric, spilling into her programs and code, realizing how much she expected him to turn them away. At his invitation, the group crossed the threshold, piling inside, the air conditioning of the home a stark contrast to the chill of outside, which disappears completely when Pepper shuts the door.

Unimpeded, the St. Bernard-- Sumo, found his way to them, greeting them, and causing her run a hand through his fur-- which he licked. Once he was finished with her, he trots over to Connor, who, crouching, bent down, as he scratched his ear gently.

There was a ghost of a smile on his face, one close to becoming a real one, one warm, like the crackle of a log on fire, or the scent of home after a long day, and content, the way she felt when breathing in air each time she went outside. He whispered something, barely audible, and barely real, but she managed to catch it, and as a response to it, Sumo nudged his hand, barking softly.

"Oh hello, it's *_very good_* to see you again."

Eui gazed at a series of photos on the wall, hands behind her back, she saw Hank scratch his arm, leaning against the wall, while others wandered around. Connor got back up from where he was, Sumo finding a spot by the coffee table and laying down under it. Once he was fully up, he opened his mouth.

"What about your ex wife?" Connor inquires from across the room, in the direction of the human. "Do you think she'll be okay with you letting us be here?"

He snorted, derisive. "Kate's not here, she's out of town for a week in Illinois because one of her folks just kicked the bucket." Hank stepped away from the wall. "But no, she probably wouldn't be. She's not your biggest fan. But shit, what she doesn't know won't hurt her, I guess."

Eui frowned.

"I don't think staying here is really a *_long term decision_* anyways." Anna considers, from the couch, their tone and voice empty, unsettling, as they stare straight at the carpet, their voice sounded lightyears away.

Hank shrugged. "You can stay until she gets back. Won't be until next week though." He moved into the kitchen once he was done speaking. He turned on the light for it, leaving them as he headed towards the fridge. "I'd let you stay longer, but, this isn't even *_my_* house."

"Are you sure? It's a pretty big felony to harbor deviants. I don't want you to go down for that on account of us." Eui asks, though self preservation was higher than any concern she currently had for him, as horrible as it sounded.

Hank pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, right now it's midnight, and I was in the middle of sleeping. Fuck felonies, i'm tired and you're already here." He bent down, reaching into the fridge and pulling out a beer, popping the cap off of it and bringing it to his lips.

She watched him, the corner of her lips twitching, exhaustion present, but also gratitude.

"What even happened, exactly?" He questions, bringing the beer back down from his mouth as he walks back into the living room. "I mean, besides the obvious."

She shakes her head, exhaling as she gave a pointed look at the floor, arms crossed. "It's a... long story. We lost... someone, and barely escaped with our lives."

She spots Pepper flinch.

Hank grunted. "Sorry to hear that." He expresses, moving to go into another hallway.

She stepped forward. "Hank?"

His steps stopped, turning, and expectant as he looked at her.

She wasn't sure what to say, he was risking a lot by letting them be here, and she didn't know why a human would do such a thing, even if Connor had been his partner once. She fidgeted, restless. "Um." She played with her fingers. "Thank you."

He waved a hand, returning to his walk, blowing a breath out of his mouth. "Don't mention it."  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
She wants nothing more than to rip out her audio processors and throw them into the farthest, deepest, hole she can find.

All of this, every single inch of it, was all *_bullshit._*

The anger in her was raw-- pure, plentiful. It mixes in with numbness, and shock, turning it sour and stained, a foul heretic. It transforms, and transforms, and *_transforms_* until nothing of the previous emotion was even recognizable, until the previous emotion *_trembles_* in terror at the new. It's easy, it's *_easier._*

She didn't allow herself to fall into despair-- only letting herself stumble into a budding rage.

It's hitting. All of it. Egregious and evil-- a parasite, a demon. It mocks her by sticking its tongue out and making childish, crude, gestures.

Bleakness acquainted itself with the group once they had settled into a tense silence, left alone by the human, who leaned against a kitchen counter, a silence that is disturbed by the cries of Pepper, who sat in her own corner, being comforted by Nina, arms wrapped around her as she let out quiet sobs, teardrops fast as they drip down her eyes.

It looked like a *_goddamn_* funeral. In a way it was, she supposed.

It was such a *_mess._* It seemed, right now, everything was real, and everything was the truth, for every android in the room, for the first time. Everything was harder, clearer, more unwanted. The room looked like a torpedo had just crashed into them all. Devastation took many forms.

Survival could be cruel-- and was the death of freedom.

As long as they scurried away from danger like roaches in the light, she thought, freedom would never be whole for them. All it ever would be was an illusion.

Freedom wasn't supposed to mean fear. What good was deviancy, free will, breaking free of the chains that bind you, if all you did with it was think of more ways to *_hide?_*

She's forced herself to take a seat, for her own sanity. She's hunched over on the couch, staring at absolutely nothing as she hears Connor flip a coin repeatedly up and down from where he sat against the wall on the floor. His knees were to his chest, and his focus never wavered. A part of her wanted to ask him to quit, the sound putting her inexplicably more on edge-- but she doesn't.

Anna was beside her, a large gap between the two. They hadn't spoken, and they hadn't fallen apart like most of the others had-- which, though it shouldn't have, was more worrying than if they had. Regardless, she hates the clouds of uncertainty, so tight and packed together, that swallow them both.

It felt like the end of the world-- or the start of it. Like atoms hadn't fully formed yet, and had at the same time. The world was crashing down, and together-- and on *_her._* Reality was changeable, as flimsy as emotions could be.

Beside their feet, Hamster whined, unable to find whatever his eyes were searching for. Anna picked him up, their face falling.

"I know you miss him. I'm sorry. I really am." They apologize, voice fragile, and apologetic. "But he isn't coming back though, honey."

At this, Hamster whined again, but jumped of their arms, headed towards the door as he sat there. In wait for a prize that would never show up again.

All of this was a nightmare.

She moved her head, seeking out the RT600. Her mouth considers opening several times. She doesn't know what to say. Comforting didn't come easy, and when it did come it was rarely helpful. She's a walking, breathing, antonym for the word. But she hated *_hated_* seeing them so distraught.

Her brows dip. "Anna..."

Their crystal eyes snap shut on the spot, sighing. "Eui, I know you're worried about me, I appreciate it, but I need... I don't know-- space. Right now." They snap, strained. "I just need space."

She understands that. She does. That didn't make her any less worried.

The devastation that hangs between them both is large, and intimidating.

Anna tilted their head. "But... actually, forget about it."

Sumo emerged from his spot under the table, lazily observing them both before he hopped up onto the couch, landing on the space between them.

"What? What were you going to say?"

Anna's lips parted, they let a long, heavy, sigh.

"If you really want to help, just... keep me company. Just... be here." They request. "Be near me."

Her brows softened. She smiled, one without teeth but still a smile. Her hand reached out, finding theirs and clasping it. Their hand was warm, and fit perfectly in hers.

"I think I can do that--"

The door receives a knock. It's loud, and firm.

Each head in the room snaps up, unsure if what they just heard was more than a trick. Hamster's tail wagged. Eui looked away from Anna, and towards the door.

Then it comes again.

Alarm danced on her features, present and not remotely hidden. Hank wandered out of the kitchen with narrowed eyes. His head flicked to the androids, and back to the door.

The knock returns again.

Hank moved, eyebrows furrowing as he slowly-- and carefully, got closer.

She finds herself rising minutely from the couch, hovering over the seat she wa on. She feels like if she could, she'd vomit.

*_Someone was here._* Someone was here. Someone was here. *_Someone was here._*

It won't stop ringing in her head. But right now she thinks it's the least of her problems.

Someone was here, possibly the poli--

His hand finds the knob, it remained there, resting on it. Until he turned it. The door flew open.

The person that greets them is not in any uniform, or wearing any sort of badge. They had green eyes, and ginger hair. They their arms crossed.

Eui widened her eyes.

*_"Zara?"_*


	41. Chapter 41: Eui XIX

Eui

****AUGUST. 12TH. 2040. 12:50AM. FRIDAY.****

The red haired woman stands in the archway of the door, a thousand and one eyes in her direction-- but never shrinking in their gaze, only *_thriving,_* bathing in it. The moonlight soaked her back with a grey, unearthly, light.

Eui's eyes one of many, but she was one of two other androids that held recognition in their eyes, as well as weariness, in them, on her part, sharing the stage with soulful sienna.

Where terror previously ignited her in light of the knock, now only stood confusion-- and distrust. She wished she could be gentler on her thirium pump, kinder, and prevent it from booming inside of her so fast and so often, especially considering the past few days she's had.*_It was not an alien feeling for her._*

With the door open, the light breeze from outside traveled through, bringing in the Summer heat with great care, greeting her from where she sat once hunched over on the couch. It let in a few insects, bugs, who flew with great speed, a moth that flew straight to one of the lightbulbs inside. The crickets were faint this far inside, but still there.

At her arrival, Hamster's tail had stopped wagging, emitting a whine, curious-- but also dejected, and had yet to move.

Zara's hair was wet, and not yet dried, and no attempt seemed to have taken place to change this. She leaned to her left, looking past Hank's body and looking into the house, spotting the group, and seeking out Eui's voice, upon spotting her, Zara's shoulders eased up. "Oh good," She exclaims dryly. "I *_did_* trail the right car then. You can never be that sure with these things."

"What, you *_know her_* Eui?" Clementine inquires from beside Cyrus.

"Woah, woah, *_trail?_* Who the *_fuck_* are *_you?"_* Hank incredulously asks, wrinkled hand still on the edges of the door, voice gruff and annoyed no doubt due to the sudden influx of people inside his house at such a late hour.

Eui's gaze held something perplexed in them, she stepped away from the couch, jostling Sumo, and stood fully up, approaching the two, glancing at Clementine. "I... she's... my former owner." Her head shakes. "What are you doing here, how did you even *_find_* us?" She doesn't mean for her voice to come out as standoffish, or hostile, however her tone had a mind of its own.

Zara slid past Hank's semi blocking form, crossing the threshold as she stepped inside, taking them in. She had a jacket in her arms, folded as she clutched it under them, a bundle of folders overflowing as they laid on top of it, as she readjusted her grip on them, being investigated by Sumo, his nose sniffing her, though she ignored him completely. "I have friends in high places, heard about a raid that was going to happen on some bunker, and I wanted to be there. It was last minute and seemed like a good story."

From their position on the couch, Anna scoffed, rebuilding the strength of the tension by echoing, "A good story."

"Oh sure, come on in, *_knock yourself out."_* The older man remarks sarcastically, narrowing his eyes as she passed him before he could block her.

"That doesn't explain *_why_* you're *_here."_* Eui persists, hostility still present, though there wasn't a solid enough reason for it being here. "You thought innocent androids being slaughtered would be a good story, fine, but why follow us?"

At the accusation, something irked crossed Zara's face, she turned her body, finally pausing as she faced her. "I got there a bit late, didn't know what had happened, but I saw all of you piling into some car, more specifically, I saw you." She gave a shrug. "I didn't know you'd be there. But i'm a journalist, and it was a story, what can I say, we're nosy. Also, you all look terrible by the way."

Eui's features were dubious. "You can't actually be expecting some kind of statement from us."

"What would we *_even tell you?"_* Pepper questions.

Zara let out a frustrated noise. "I never *_said_* I wanted a statement from you, I didn't drive all the way over here for something that wouldn't even be taken seriously in the press."

She had a point. No media outlet would listen to their side of a story, or if they did, they wouldn't end up publishing any of it, not after the revolution. It was laughable and foolish.

No one cared about what they had to say, not when they could easily ignore it now, and blissfully pretend nothing ever occured to dare defeat the status quo.

"Then what *_are_* you here for? I'm assuming it isn't because you just wanted to stop by and *_catch up_* probably."

She shouldn't be so defensive. In the short time with her, Zara had never been cold, or humiliating, like the previous humans that bought her had treated her. She wasn't some saint, sure, complete with the brightest, most elegant wings to fly speedily through dark skies with, but she hadn't treated her terribly, or like something lower than a dog. She was the only owner who hadn't degraded her in some way, or mocked her. Slick and unreliable or not, credit was due where credit was due-- even reluctant ones.

Seeing her after all this time felt strange-- a homecoming, without the factor of a proper home to come back for. That was something she had never known. It was bittersweet, with the exception of anything sweet-- which failed to show up.

RA9, it felt like it had happened on a planet lightyears from the one she resided on now. It no longer felt like a past of her own discovery, but a dream-- dizzying, surreal, blurry, faint cracks and tears in experiences that almost felt real, and tangible, and that might have once been something she knew and went through, but felt so *_far_* from her now, that it may as well never had happened at all.

The breath that is an illusion, and artificial in her throat, that, for only a minute, keeps up the facade that she could be, and was, a flawless, exact replica of humanity, alive, and one hundred percent seen as such, until the relief that an exhale brings never comes. The dirt at the edge of a rocky cliff that hungrily grinned down at an untamed ocean as pebbles fell down in it. The wrinkles on a sheet of paper. An almost reality, too weak and transparent to find the strength to be nostalgic, or reflect on scenes from the past. *_So very distant, and far from her._*

She wasn't the same AJ200 that had, in a moment of desperation and quick thinking, taken the spot of a misplaced clone far more luckier than she was. She felt it in her software, and in her synthetic skin, blending and molding into something, mixed inside a pot, shaped and shifted and tossed aroumd by strong, unsavory winds and circumstances. Changed-- shapeshifting, dissolving, being rebuilt into a completely new entity. The night before autumn transformed into winter, a cozy brown leaf flies down in the air that lands on the ground as a icy snowflake.

The bunker had changed her somehow. She isn't sure to what extent.

In the end, regardless, she was a strong critic of nostalgia.

Zara rolled her eyes, a crease in her forehead after. Her response was quick. "I'm here, because i'm on *_your side,_* obviously."

She raised a brow and huffed. Eui's response was quicker."I'm pretty sure buying androids, dehumanizing them by calling them it, isn't something humans on our side do." She doesn't understand what the woman is trying to pull here, if anything, she was on her own side.

"I only bought the AJ200 I was *_supposed_* to get to investigate Cyberlife." She shoots back. "I *_also_* let you leave without trying to stop you, and I let you take my car. Besides, that was months ago, sometimes us humans manage to change in that amount of time."

"What, have you?"

"Yes. I *_have."_*

Zara gives each of them a look, before she sets her coat down on a chair's armrest, draping it over it as her eyes flicked to the folders on top of it-- at least six in total, each with their own contents one second away from falling out of it. She gathered them, neatly stacking them, and headed towards the kitchen table.

"For the past eight months-- or nine, really, I considered doing this the week after they announced they were rebuilding androids," Zara's back was turned, and from the living room, the group observed her, she was occupied with bringing many of the papers out and putting them on the table. "i've been investigating Cyberlife."

"Investigating?" Cyrus echoes to the left of Connor, curious.

"Investigating deviancy, mostly." She clarifies. "Investigating to see if they really managed to get rid of whatever causes it. After what happened with that android Markus, you can't blame me for being skeptical. And big corporations hardly tell the whole truth. Liars know liars."

Eui came forward, edging closer, stepping up to her side. She looked closely at the table, which had a sea of papers on them, and what looked like letters, or emails, printed out. A surprised expression crossed her features. Her hand wrapped around one of the emails, hearing the paper crinkle as she set it down a second later.

Though she couldn't make heads or tails of any of it so far, she asks, "You did all this work and research by yourself?"

Zara bit her lip, shaking her head distractedly as she stared down. "No, I was working with someone else-- that man you saw me talk to that day in the park? I worked with him for a time, mostly he gave me information he got from someone on the inside."

"Dean Zanderfell?"

The two women turn their heads towards the voice, finding Connor behind them and returning their gaze. There was something in the tone of his voice, and he considered the both of them with a distant expression.

Zara shifted, looking down as she sniffed. "Yeah, him. Or I did work with him, at least, until they caught him." She sounded bitter. "But never me. I'm not complaining, would be difficult trying to explain to my husband if I had been."

"I interrogated him about his involvement." Connor confesses. "But what they accused him of trying to expose wasn't the truth, was it? They said he was trying to take them down for tax evasion."

The journalist laughed, humorless. "They're good at burying things and making them disappear, i'll give them that. No, that wasn't even close to what we found together."

For a moment, her confident, assured, demeanor faded, transforming into something vaguely stricken. "After that, they discredited everything he did, his whole career, worthless faster than you could even blink. Poor bastard. They didn't even need to pull a trigger, he did it all on his own."

Connor froze, visibly. "He died?"

She nodded. "His android found him in his home a few weeks after they caught him. They didn't find a note, but... they think he... did it himself."

Connor pressed his lips together, but didn't say anything.

Abruptly, Zara took a breath in, her original demeanor returning. "What i'm getting at, is... that, when faced with the truth, when faced with knowledge that you can't bear accepting, or that is inconvenient for you, whether it be because we humans are prideful and lazy, or because it's hard to swallow, at a certain point, you have to make yourself bear it, and let your pride suffocate." She muses. "I'm a journalist, so it would be way more hypocritical for me to continue to ignore it. And i'm a lot of things, but hypocritical isn't one of them."

"What's in it for you, though, really? You can't just be in it for the truth." Says Anna, whose voice sounded less dead now.

"I *_can_* be. I can also be in it to be known as the person who stopped ignoring and uncovered their lies. Duality of man, and all of that."

Eui wasn't surprised by the statement. Not really. It doesn't leave her any less bitter, however. But her mouth stays shut.

"Ignore *_what_* though, exactly?" Hank questions from across the room.

Green eyes darted to brown, staring at Eui, and then gesturing towards a paper on the table. After a second, the android picked up it gently.

Zara leaned against a counter with her hands behind her. "I went into this, skeptical, but sure that androids were just circuitry and wires and other technical crap I can't comprehend. Not sure what I believe now, or what my stance is, but facts are facts."

The raven haired woman shared a look with the others, before her eyes moved to each letter on the paper-- some sort of email, suprisingly time stamped, and dated back to December of last year, sent by someone named Rachel Elka to... *_Elijah Kamski._* With each letter, her face gradually morphed and fell. She swallowed.

"Dear Elijah," She started, reading it out loud for the others, clear and easily heard. "I understand that you've recently told the press that you were hoping to have androids rebuilt as well as reintegrated back into Detroit as early as April of next year. However, it feels important and crucial for you to know that we have not fixed whatever issue is behind what happened with the RK200 a year ago, nor does it seem like we have made or will make any progress in that area. Whatever this is, deviancy, it doesn't seem solvable, though the RK800 working for the DPD shows no signs itself of the error its predecessor faced. There's every chance, however, that if you go forward with reselling androids, based off all the data we've found, that what happened to your machines might happen again, and this time, Cyberlife might be unable to control it like last time."

She inhaled a shaky breath, finishing, and setting the paper down before being handed another by Zara. She glanced at it, before opening her mouth again.

"Dear Rachel, though their creator, this puzzles even *_me,_* it's understandable that you have doubts over any plans for their reintroduction so soon after what happened, and I can assure you i'm only hoping for the absolute best case scenario, even as this problem seems inevitable and unfixable, though my personal assistant has never shown any sign of this bug itself. I'd even say you were right though, that something along the lines of what the deviant leader did might happen again. But Cyberlife's been dormant for far too long. Our customers deserve the weight of responsibility to once again be lifted from their shoulders. As your CEO, and perhaps maybe even your *_friend,_* i'm asking for you to ignore, and do not mention any hesitation or worries you might have, and trust in me: deviancy, if handled with discretion, should it occur more that is, will never be a threat again.

Sincerely,

Elijah Kamski."

Once she finishes, she throws the email aside, letting it carelessly fall aimlessly onto the table. Her face was hard, but her eyes melancholic. She shut them, breathing out.

"So they knew that they couldn't solve deviancy, then. Even by destroying us. They knew nothing they could do would stop us being alive. They even knew it might happen again." Nina scoffs, eyes widening.

"And Elijah knew perfectly well what we were, all he cared about was Cyberlife looking good again. Not that's really a surprise to anyone here at this point." Anna remarks, their tone the opposite of shock. Which was understandable, they knew him better than anyone else currently in the room. Every slimy action, every ulterior motive.

Of course he did. They all knew. Every worker whose ever stepped foot inside Cyberlife, was complicit. Maybe some that worked before the failure of the revolution had only good intentions, or simply hadn't thought about anything until their kind spoke up, but afterwards, whether or not a good human laid inside the building, was unlikely. They knew they were alive. You couldn't spend your time watching life be built impeccably, and not think that.

It's just easier to deny.

"It goes much deeper, evidence wise. A paper trail longer than the damn alphabet really." Zara breaks a the dark sky of quietness that follows the statement. "Bribery, mostly towards prying news reporters who wanted to run stories about it before everything properly got out. And they also knew the deviancy problem would be unable to be contained and kept under wraps for very much longer. I think Markus was perfect timing for them to spin it around in their favor."

Hank's eye twitched. "How could they do that exactly?"

Eui spoke up. "Connor said they engineered it all. The revolution." She glanced at Hank. "Markus helped with what he was doing, even if he didn't know it."

In all honesty, she still didn't understand why. She was no businesswoman, and she definitely didn't know how to run a company, but she doesn't understand the motive for something like that. How on earth would your business ever prosper again after the dust settled?

What was that saying? Even bad publicity was good?

"Oh *_fuck_* them..." Clementine mutters, almost inaudible. 

Zara hummed. "Well, if they were really telling the truth to him, it was a last minute choice. There's evidence, emails to suggest what was happening wasn't what they wanted, and that they needed to find a way to control or stop it, but nothing that implies they *_planned_* for all of it to happen." She went closer to the table, pushing around papers before she finds something, picking it up and handing it to Connor, as Eui dropped her hand that was reaching out expectant for it. He seemed taken aback by his inclusion in this, curiousity in his eyes, but read whatever laid on the paper regardless.

"But they did create the RK800 series with the intent for him to go deviant in mind." The human continues. "At least, created him with the intention of being able to observe the process and build up to it."

Eui shared a look with Connor, she sought his attention, as he absorbed whatever the contents of what he was reading were. His jaw tightened, and his brows knit together. But eventually he does tear his eyes away, long enough for her to shoot him a sympathetic smile. He does not seem shocked by anything he's read. When it ends, she found Cyrus watching across the room. She smiled towards him as well, but he simply gave a short, swift, nod.

"RA9..." Pepper whispers, just loud enough to be heard.

"There's so much information and dirt here," Zara muses. "that they'd have a big hole to dig out of, if any of this got out."

Would they? *_Would they really?_* It seemed like they bounced back from every negative event. Even with evidence like this, even with the bribery, the cover ups, she knew, she knew that humans would let it die down within a few weeks. Such was the case with problems Cyberlife has gone through in the past.

It's a wheel that spins without stop-- and repeats.

"They wouldn't care." Eui's eyes are downcast, twirling her finger around on the strings of her jacket, a frown on her face. Her voice is quiet. "Even if you told them tomorrow that Elijah Kamski always meant for us to be deviant, or told them about everything else... the humans wouldn't care. Not for very long anyways."

It's a horrible truth, but a truth. Humans could easily ignore the troubles of anyone they thought were different, or strange, or *_unwelcome._*

They'd care and talk about it for one, two weeks tops. And then they wouldn't.

She could hear the crickets outside.

"Then we *_make them_* care."

Once her head goes upwards, she finds the voice to belong to Nina, her arms crossed as her mouth shuts-- but her face remains steady and steely.

"What?"

"We make them care." The silver haired woman repeats. "We do something that's too loud for them to ignore."

"What, like something Markus would have done?" Eui asks.

"We only just barely escaped, Nina. Do you really think drawing attention to ourselves is such a good idea?" Clementine questions, skeptically.

"I think we'd be better off hiding." Pepper adds.

"Oh and hiding worked out for us did it?" Anna says, sour.

"If we're *_more careful--"_*

"One day the humans will be gone." Through the overlapping voices, Eui pressed her palms down on the table, hunched over, staring down at the papers as she got their attention. "One day, most of us, at this rate, not all of us, but some of us, will outlive them. All of them." She scrunched her brows, and exhaled, biting her lip, before glancing up. "I have a quantic battery, that leaves me autonomous and functional on my own, that lasts one hundred and ten years. I could get another and replace it once it dies. So one day, i'll outlive them all."

She began to move, palms back at her side. She took a step, moving around the table. The others watched. "One hundred and ten years, possibly *_more,_* if I can find another battery, of hiding. Outliving. *_Surviving._* One hundred and maybe more years of simply surviving them. In silence. In a social exile. Until they leave us alone, not because they've seen the light, but because we are the only ones left. Only then could we live in peace. Now I... don't know about you all, but i've never been that patient of a person. And surviving? Is that a good goal to have? Is that all we can ever *_hope_* for?" She questions, face softening.

She looked thoughtful, the others seemed to hang on to every one of her words. She stood still. "Markus is... gone. He's dead, and he's not-- he's not coming back. He fought for us to be free, for us to no longer hide in order to live, and lost. But that doesn't mean we have to continue to lose. *_We are alive._* We are alive. Yet all we do is hide. We... cower in the darkness, flee from any eyes that see is, all in the name of survival. Of our species continuing because that's the only way we *_can_* remain a living species. But we can't keep *_doing that._* If all we have to live for and look forward to each day is keeping ourselves hidden in order to survive, then maybe don't deserve to and *_we shouldn't."_*

She pauses pacing the room. Looking up at all of them intensely. "We deserve more. We're more than what they say. Hiding isn't living. We're free in isolation, yes. Free to remain silent as our numbers grow smaller, free to dream of a freedom that will never be willingly given to us. What we were doing wasn't living, even though we're *_alive._* But we can start now."

Her eyes plead with them, a hush falls over the room with each of a sentence.

"Henry died thinking we'd never be free." At the mention of his name, Anna flinched. "He believed it with all his heart. That, all we would ever be was obedient machines in their eyes. He deserves to be proven wrong. The humans... the humans will never be ready to hear what we have to say, or ready to accept what we are. They're afraid of what they can't understand. We're still new to them. Sometimes... new is scary. They're afraid that they'll have to acknowledge that the people they've humiliated and degraded for years could feel pain from their actions. They got dependent on us, and now they don't want to lose that luxury. But... they have to."

She presses her lips together. "We have to do something. We're alive, despite their best efforts. It's terrifying, I understand. But we can't live in fear any longer." Eui finishes, expression eager, and slightly sad.

There's a silence. Deep.

"What would we even do?" Asks Nina. "We don't have the numbers yet to stage something."

"We could make a video." Anna suggests, meeting Eui's eyes.

"A video?"

They purse their lips. "Cyberlife. We could do it at Cyberlife. They have a network on TV used for advertising androids in their tower, all we'd have to do was get into that room and broadcast it there. Go big or go home, am I right?"

"At *_Cyberlife though?"_* Pepper looked skeptical, but mostly on board with the plan.

"It would send a bigger message. Markus did it, somewhere else, but he did it. I know my way around it, I could stay here and give you help once inside." They direct at Eui. "You won't be in the dark.

"I'll do it."

Eui's head snapped to her left, shaking immediately as she took in Connor's soft brown eyes staring at them. His expression was determined. "What? Connor, n--"

"I know the inside of it." He talks over her. "I've infiltrated it before, I could get in and out of there."

He has a point. He had done it successfully in the past, but Eui didn't like the concept of him doing it again on his own. "I was going to do it, it'd be difficult to get in but I could do it on my own, you don't need to do something so risky again, you couldn't just waltz in there now like you did before."

"Maybe. But I want to." He admits, soft. "I could go with you. And besides, i'm sure there's another way in."

"There is, someone could distract the guards while you two swim under the bridge to reach the tower across it." Anna mentions, their voice clear. "It's not that deep and there's another entrance besides the main one. Virtually never used from what I remember. There'd be drones to dodge, though."

She bit her lip. From across the room, Hank sighed.

"You really sure about this, son?" He asks, gruff, but laced with genuine concern.

"Hank." Connor begins to reassure. "I promise i'll be fine."

"I could go too." Beside Connor, Cyrus spoke up. "Perhaps three people is a bit much, but it wouldn't hurt to have another watching your back.

Connor gives him a strange look, but doesn't protest. Neither does Eui.

"Fuck, you're really doing this huh?" The former cop in the room scoffs. "*_Fuck me,_* you'd need a driver, right?"

"Hank--"

"Don't try to talk me out of it, kid." Hank cuts through the start of Connor's voice. "You're planning the start of a damn second revolution or something in my home-- ex's, whatever, the point is, my house, I get to help ya."

"Christ this is like a movie." Zara chuckles.

"So everyone's really on board with this then?" Eui grabs all of their attention again. Tone serious. "Because once we do this, there's no going back.

"Well. I know we're all tired of hiding. Even if we pretend we aren't." Anna says. "And we have to be in this together. If we don't have each other than we have nothing."

"So when are we doing this?" Pepper questions, eyebrows knitted in concern. "Tomorrow? A week from now?"

Eui shaked her head.

"No. This is important. *_It has to happen tonight._* Here's the plan..."  
  



	42. Chapter 43: Hank III

Hank

****AUGUST. 12TH. 2040. 1:10AM. FRIDAY.****

Throughout many times, in his (suprisingly) long life, he's found himself dipped into situations that felt bigger than he was. And that were also a lot to take in.  
  
There's been cases, investigations, back when he wasn't so washed up and actually bothered to go into work each day, and only drank one beer at the end of the day, ones that left a kind of impact on him, ones that-- when finally solved, left the streets of Detroit and the world just a tiny bit *_changed,_* and when they were solved, cliche or not, left him as *_new man._* More or less.

This isn't any different-- maybe a little, or a lot, it's not something he's done before, but in a way it still felt familiar. Like history's come full circle.

He can't believe he volunteered to do this-- or he can, because something this dangerous and stupid was right up his alley, and the self destructive streak in him didn't seem to be able to sit still any longer. But there wasn't any going back now. Not that he was even thinking of it.

If you had told Hank Anderson a year ago that he'd be driving a trio of androids to a massive company, one that puts a price tag on life, and also act as a distraction, so that they could sneak in, infiltrate it, and make a video, he would of snorted, scoffed, flipped you off, and *_told you that you had to be drunker than he was._*

But he wasn't drunk right now. He was sober, more sober than he had been in a long while. Maybe this whole thing is some kindness to his liver, but he hadn't had much time to consider that. He hadn't been for a whole week, unfortunately and reluctantly fortunately all at once, missing out on the regular kiss of whiskey put firmly onto his lips. But he knows that past him would *_shit himself_* in shock if he knew what present him was doing right now with a sober mind.

He's gotten far on the road, no longer anywhere close to the house and because of the hour, he's practically the only one on the highway. Though Detroit never fully slept. It made everything more standoffish, and *_ominous._* The rain that was sadistically *_slamming straight down_* on the earth only intensified the feeling.

The tense nature in the air made it like a buildup to something concerning. Apart from him, there's still a number-- albeit an extremely small one-- of people that steadily move down the roads, streams of water across a healthy blue river that never makes absolute definitive contact with him but flow smoothly and easily regardless. All he passes at this point are buildings-- stores, and billboards, mostly, that make fewer appearences the farther he gets, with houses having completely disappeared a while back.

The car window is down, halfway only, not all the way, in order to prevent the wind and rain from being fully *_remorseless_* to him, the sounds of it writhing and screaming from his speed still inside his ear, and the water falling onto the windshield, both eveloping the world as the only things in existence besides him and the other occupants of the car, but enough to where it blew the strands on the top of his head lightly in several directions and greeted his temple.

Normally, he hates the damn feeling, and he hates driving in rain just like he hated driving in the snow. He hated the way the wind felt on his skin when he drove, it left him feeling vaguely and inexplicably sick, and with a level of discomfort at the distracting strength of the winds. Usually, he kept the window up, and closed shut, the air conditioning in the vehicle a welcomed substitute for creating coolness on his skin. With the weather, it would of been best, but he needed noise, he never drove in silence, and the car radio had stopped working two weeks ago. As for the rain, he'd just have to *_suck it up._*

The car creates steady hums, vibrations, with its movements on the road. This, along with the downpour, left him feeling like he was laying down concealed in a kind of boat, only rocked once in a while by occasional bumps in the road. He brings one hand off the wheel, making the other one stay as he uses his right hand to scratch a persistent itch on his chin, rubbing it against his beard as he registers distantly how tired he was, and how, though he was sure he wouldn't be falling asleep at the wheel anytime soon, driving at one in the morning was a stupid idea considering he had only four hours of sleep last night.

Still, he soldiers through any weariness and drowsiness, and doesn't let this bother him too much, inhaling and exhaling as he stops at a light, dripping from the rain. He's felt way worse on more grueling stakeouts than a couple minute drive, though it felt like it was taking four damned hours-- but it might have been because he just disliked driving.

He blows a breath out, coming to a stop at a light. Once at it, he rubs a hand over his face as he waits. His eyes flickered to the mirror that hung in front of him, adjusting it, before the light turns green again as he resumes the drive. In it, he spotted the leather of the empty backseat, bare, and devoid of anything. But a car's headlights, white and unceasingly cruel as it drives past, shines into the vehicle through the downpour, causing Hank to raise an arm to shield his eyes from it, as it-- along with a flash of lightning-- though thunder never comes, briefly illuminates the half seen body of an android in dark clothing on the floor below, face unseen and hidden.

The floor was unclean, and dirtied with a number of crumbs and wrappers from past visits to fast food chains. Hank had never bothered to be the cleanest of people, but he also never threw it on the ground outside either. In any case, her form laid out on the floor managed to make most of the mess disappear.

Another flash distracts him, pulling his gaze away from the mirror like a tug on a rope, leading him from one place to another. The world suddenly changed and renewed, alight with a constant streak of red and blue that looked almost blurry in the rain, and in its own way, dreamy. He began to slow down.

He squinted at the scene in front of him, roadblocks in each lane that had heavily armed men guarding them while being assaulted with drops of rain. There were cars in front of him, paused, and cars elsewhere that were stopped, frozen in time as they waited, patient, for the armed men to be done with them. There was a dark sign, glowing with orange letters and disappearing and reappearing that read,

****DEVIANTS SUSPECTED IN AREA. TEMPERATURE CHECKS AND QUESTIONING MANDATORY BEFORE CONTINUING.****

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." He scoffs, still watching the scenes unfold. Three cars ahead, he saw someone check the trunk of a grey vehicle.

From behind, the figure hidden on the floor rose slightly, half up. Eui's hair was disheveled, and at his frustrated voice her head had tilted, before following where his gaze was.

His body turned as best it could restricted by a seat belt, his head straining to see her as his jacket crinkles from the motion. "Whaddya think you're doing? Get back down."

*_"A roadblock?"_* She asks, incredulous. Her eyes widen. "They have to be searching for us-- they'll search the car, Hank!"

He shakes his head. "They can't do that without a warrant just rel--"

"If they have *_probable cause_* they can." She shoots back.

Hank pinched the bridge of his nose, adrenaline finding its way to him. It reminded him of the chase on a case finally coming to its climax. There was a man coming the way of the car, blurred and shaped oddly from drops on the windshield. "Just-- stay calm, and stay down," He tossed her a blanket that was discarded and forgotten on the passenger seat, one that was raggedy, itchy, and green. "use this, it'll be fine kid."

"But what about Connor and C--"

"I'll think of something, alright?" He snaps, not meaning to but anger was always his go to when under pressure. Eui laid back down, covering herself when the blanket as asked. There wasn't any rise and fall of her chest, and it made him unnerved to know androids could do such freaky shit like that when they wanted to.

He turned back, facing the road. At the right time, because the man that was approaching the car had just arrived, tapping on the window with his knuckles, the action firm and loud.

He sighed, sitting there, before rolling down his window, finger pressed on the button as he begins to see the officer more clearly.

Unblocked, the downpour found its way into the car, vicious as it stained the seats, hitting Hank's skin and clothing, uninvited, along with a slight breeze.

The man doesn't waste any time once he does, immediately shining a flashlight his direction. Hank hissed, cursing as his eyes adjusted to the invasive brightness, holding a hand up to his face, able to make out his grey eyes and brown hair, and the name on his jacket that read: *_Officer Ronan._*

Ronan sized him up, sniffing, unbothered by the weather. "License and registration, please."

Without saying anything back, he unbuckled himself, leaning over to the passenger's side, pulling down on the glove compartment box, pushing around various documents before pulling one in particular out, shoving the box closed again as he goes back to his own side, fumbling with the insides of his coat before bringing his wallet out, stretching it before finally finding the object in question, ripping it out, as he handed both items to the man, who quickly took both burdens from his grasp.

Ronan considered both of them, taking a long--stupidly long, moment, to review them. His eyes were fixed-- careful.

He hands them both back to Hank, who, before both have even reentered the vehicle, is subjected to having what looked like a barcode reader shoved in his face, eyes screaming when orange dances in them as the object moves up and down his body rapidly, making a clicking sound.

*_Must of been the temperature check,_* he thinks. Though he didn't know shit about whatever the thing that was used even was.

Whatever comes up in the scan, does not seem to alarm Ronan, whose posture seemed to relax an inch, shifting onto another foot as he got further down onto Hank's level by leaning down to see him.

"Sorry sir, you never know if the person next to you is a plastic or not, you know what I mean?" When the grey haired man give him an unpleasant, crude smile, one that was Hank Anderson for, *_i'm five seconds away from punching you,_* but doesn't respond, he continued with, "Seen any tonight? There's a few that escaped a raid from what we gather. We're making sure they aren't going this way."

He shook his head. "Sorry to er, hear that. But deviants, no, can't say I have."

He hummed. "You mind if I search your vehicle, sir?"

So they were asking. Not demanding. Maybe turning out to be human eased some sort of tension in the air. He could say no, he knows that's his right. It would be the easiest way out of all this crap. All he'd have to do is say *_no._*

But Hank Anderson started from the very bottom of the police food chain, a beat cop on the streets of Detroit, a rookie, and he knew the suspicion that always ignites a cop when someone refuses or demands a warrant to search their vehicle.

And there was always a chance he was just asking to be polite, and that no matter the answer they would end up doing it regardless for probable cause reasons. Because of course, there wasn't an easy way out of this.

It all be smoother if he agreed. He had never been *_on this side_* of a road stop before.

"No, I don't, uh, mind, go on ahead." He answers, though the exact moment he does, he curses up a storm directed at himself in his head. It's got his heart pumping at a dangerous level.

Ronan gave a polite smile, bringing up his flashlight again as he walked over to the passenger side, opening the door and shining it in.

The light touched everywhere. He waved it around, observing each inch of the front seats, but never disturbing anything.

Hank glanced in the mirror, eyes on the blanket on the ground. He pressed his lips together, but stayed where he was.

Ronan finished, his searches in the front coming up empty handed. And he moved onto the back. He opened the left door to the backseat, letting the light shine in again.

He gritted his teeth. Fucking A. He turned his head three inches, watching him out of the corner of his eye.

Ronan paused, his flashlight hovering over the blanket. He stood there. And then his head turned, waving the light towards Hank again. "You get cold driving in Summer?

"I was out camping a while back." He conjures. "Guess I forgot the thing back there." It wasn't a lie, he had gone camping-- four years ago, that is.

Miraculously, he doesn't attempt to disturb the blanket, accepting the answer.

At the same time, something disturbs the car. A thump. It's short, inaudible, but it resonates within. It leaves him confused, before he realizes there's only one place the source could be from.

Ronan raised a brow, pausing, halfway out of the backseat. You could deny the event ever occured, as it doesn't dare happen again. He still stood there, and Hank still sat there, both equally frozen from it.

A pause. "Mind if I search the trunk?"

It hits like a plane just flew into him. Fuck. Fuck. *_Fuck._* He thinks.

He can't agree to it, he can't pull off a bluff like that. Not when there's no way to hide the two androids inside of it before he can. But he's gotten this far in digging his own *_hole_* that it would be *_even more_* suspicious if he said no *_right now._*

He couldn't say yes to that either. He can't say yes to it or it means Connor and Cyrus are dead. And *_fuck_* that he *_just _* got him back--

His eyes are on the road. His hands on the wheel, and his foot frozen on the gas pedal.

What he's thinking of is batshit. Even he knows that. It's crazy-- if he does it there's no going back either. He could take off, he was the only one left in this lane. Hank's not a very good driver, but he was usually a fast one. Even if there's about four cop cars here.

He can't, he *_can't,_* he doesn't have much left to lose-- or anything left really, he's had nothing to keep him going for a while now, even if it wasn't exactly the truth anymore, but he couldn't be reckless like that, not when he's supposed to be being helpful. He had Sumo to get home and feed. But he couldn't-- *_he doesn't know_* what to do from here, and he absolutely despised not being in control and was running on very little options here.

Why'd he agree to this shit? How does he get himself roped in these things?

He shuts his eyes, and reopens them, a breath escapes his nose, opening his mouth--

There's a thunderous commotion-- or whatever was louder than thunder, louder than a crash, or a shout. It's so sudden, that he jumps where he sits.

Ronan's attention snapped from Hank to another area the road block, boots heavy and wet on the puddle they splash, hurrying away from the vehicle, and towards another car, fast.

Hank's eyes followed where he was headed. In the other lane, several guns were trained on the driver's side of a white car. There was somebody being dragged out of it forcibly, the thing Ronan had used was in the hands of another officer. Though it was hard to see from here, Hank swears he can make out the LED on the now kneeling figure's temple. But the shift in the air had been utterly noticable. There were people watching from the saftey of their own cars. The person on the ground was babbling frantic pleas.

However, he doesn't get much time to look for any of the three colors of an LED, as, a second later, a shot in the dark goes off. Boisterous. Impossible. An unseen bullet whizzing in the air from one of the men's guns.

It finds a target. It enters a skull. And the figure sagged to the side. Motionless and awkward. A permanent statue.

Hank swore, taken aback. He narrowed his eyes, and glanced behind him again, noticing Eui's crouched form sparing a look out of her window on her knees with a blanket still half draped over her. Her face was hardened-- a boulder, and he didn't blame her for that.

Somehow, after all of that, the world returns to normal, as if the earth had not just been disturbed. A few of the officers return to what they were doing and others dragged the body somewhere he can't see, making out a small trail of blue, and, like that, nothing ever happened.

Eui laid back down.

Though he wasn't overjoyed about the event, it was a needed distraction, as morbid as it sounded. And-- with focus trained elsewhere, he was able to return back to driving as he promptly fled the road block without hesitation.

Christ. He hoped this wouldn't still backfire on them. Not after dodging all of that. He still doesn't know why he's doing this.

He gets farther away from the roadblock, and, simultaneously, closer to the objective.

Or, maybe he... did. Things had been weird for him lately. He had been feeling different. A different he couldn't... properly explain. It gets on his nerves. All he knows is ever since getting involved in all this android shit, something has changed. In him, at least.

He turns, another path on a highway revealing itself. The moon shines down, white and shimmering. The rain's still finding it's way inside the car, and only then does he remember to bring the window back up. Soon, the assault was blocked.

He doesn't know. He might of just been... tired. Exhausted. Exhausted from... from...

Living the way he was, he guessed.

He was tired, of living like it was the day of *_Cole's funeral_* over and over again.

It had been a small thing, which felt an insult to his memory, considering how big of a person he had been. How much he made the room he was in shine brighter-- made *_anyone_* he was near shine brighter. With his endless facts he learned, or his unstoppable enthusiasm.

The horrible thing was that he hardly remembered anything else that day, he had stayed together for the whole thing, bitter-- avoiding punching anyone who dared giving him thoughts and prayers, but as soon as he landed on the couch at home, alone, as Kate had chosen to stay with her parents for the night, he had popped open an uncountable number of whiskey bottles and drowned himself in the intoxicating liquid-- it was the hardest he ever drank at the time.

Before Cole had passed, he hadn't had much a problem with alcohol-- when he was a dumbass teenager, he had drank a bit more than most, woke up with a lot of headaches and trips to the toilet, and disappointed talks with his folks, but it had never been something big-- at the time, at least. Getting on the force had stopped the habit slightly, becoming a father had stopped it *_completely,_* in the desire to be everything a child should have, and becoming a father *_without a son_* had *_undone all of it_* and resumed it. Grief gave all his buried flaws and coping methods an ungodly resurrection.

Cole had made him better than he was before.

He had been so envious of Kate. It wasn't like she hadn't mourned-- she had, and for the few months they stayed together after the accident before separating, she had been just as much a wreck-- maybe even more. The only difference was, that she managed to *_move on._* To *_heal._* Though blame towards androids, never left her.

They hadn't the perfect marriage before it all, they were simply different people, with different wants and needs, but Cole had never seen or heard them argue. Even without his death, they would probably wouldn't have lasted, grief just sped it up. Regardless, he had hated her for that though. How easily she had slid down the stream from bargaining to acceptance. Leaving him still firmly wedged between the rock of anger, blame, and depression. It felt she had forgotten him. Forgotten their son, *_their boy._*

It wasn't fair of him. But he hated the way grief was *_expected_* to play out. He didn't *_want_* to move on, moving on meant accepting and he refused to *_accept_* any of it because what was he *_meant_* to do? Be one of those parents who could talk about their 'late' child with misty eyes and a nostalgic ache and fondness in their voice? Who went on with their lives as their child always *_stayed in their hearts._* Those people were functional parents with dead children. Not even parents anymore, actually. He doesn't know *_how_* to be functional after a hurricane.

But then he met Connor. When his liver wasn't entirely *_beyond_* repair yet. Every time he saw him, every minute he opened his mouth-- he had thought of him. Of Cole. Blame. The android coming out of the operating room to tell him *_he couldn't save his son_* as a human lingered in some sort of closet getting high off his ass.

It was easier to be angry at people he thought couldn't feel bad about any of it rather than the real guilty party. Maybe it wasn't fair, but it had been easy.

It didn't help that in some ways Connor reminded him of Cole. Or that he had made him see. See... fuck, *_everything?_*   
Made him realize how wrong he was, how misplaced his anger just had been because even though he was designed to hunt what their investigation was, the RK800 was the most human android he had ever come across.

Through all of Hank's hostility, he had cared about him, for whatever reason, when everyone else had given up on him. Which was what he *_wanted_* now that he thinks about it. People growing to hate your guts made it easier on them when they found you with a bullet in your mouth.

So maybe that's why he was doing this. Because it was better than wallowing in a five year sorrow and drunken haze, waiting for the whiskey to kill him or for him to. Or because it was time for humans to stop fucking things up and actually listen to people who were alive.

Hank thinks he was a good man before everything. And maybe still was.

He can't move on. But maybe... fuck, he could let go.

He turns, hands on the wheel as he moves onto a bridge. The tower is imposing, dark, shimmering with light, and unable to not be noticed. It was watching. Always.

He pulled to a stop, slightly on the bridge that led to the place. He had only been here once before-- not by his own free will, either. And he wasn't in any hurry to be back, yet here he was.

Shit. Moment of truth, he supposed.

There were guards up ahead, a drone near them. They hadn't seen his car on the bridge yet.

He heard Eui jump out of the car, shutting the door softly behind her as the rain hits her. He stayed, sitting where he was. Her shoes crunch on the gravel, before he presses a button and the trunk slides up and open. He glanced at the mirror outside the car, watching as the two other androids pour out of the space.

They don't waste time, movements quick as they had down the bridge and stand on the last bit of land before there was only water-- but before Connor can, Hank's hand shoots out of his open window, finding the fabric of his jacket. He halts, blinking before he stares at the man impeding him. Quizzical. His hand falls away, as Connor got inside the car for a moment.

"Hey, kid, now that we're alone... you're sure about this?" Even through the rain, his tone is uncharacteristically soft, and gentle as it hits the seats and windshield. "I mean, you sure this is what you want to do? There's no turning back."

"I know. But you don't have to worry about me, Hank. I'll be fine." He lingered in the passenger seat, the others hidden as they waited in the rain for Hank to do what he was going to do. He gave Hank a ghost of a reassuring smile, his soft eyes watching him.

He waved a hand. "I'm not worried about ya son, you've done this before haven't you?" He lied, as the other nodded.

He *_was_* worried, he knew Connor could take care of himself, and the other-- Cyrus? Could too. And Eui. But considering Connor's history, it was reasonable for him to be concerned.

And Hank just got him back. And so did Connor.

"I just... want to make sure this is *_what you want._* You don't have to prove anything you know. You don't got to make up for anything."

He knows the kid. Self blame is something Connor knows well. He'd prefer to grab him and shake him until he broke free of that mindset, because he deserved better than that, but they didn't have the time.

The other is quiet-- until he replies with-- "I want to do this. I have to."

Connor's hands opened the door, the rain darting in before he closed it. He moved swiftly to the others.

Hank sighed. Taking in everything as he looked at the guards.

He was really doing this huh.

Christ, they better not shoot his ass.

The car moves forward, gaining the attention once he's close enough to the guards-- who pause in what they were doing to observe him. When he's close, he turns the car off, snatching the keys. The door slides open, and closes in the same breath. He gave a shaky smile of disbelief, feet one step after another.

"Sir, get back in your car if you have business here." One of the men says, firm--but diplomatic.

He spares an unseen look at the right of the bridge, only being able to assume there's people under it. He nodded his head, biting his lip.

He *_really_* hopes they don't shoot him.

He gets closer to one of them. "Oh *_I have business_* here you jackass." He puts on a slur, his movements-- disorderly and crude.

"Sir--"

And his fist flies, connecting with the man's face.


	43. Chapter 43:, Connor XIX

Connor

****AUGUST. 12TH. 2040. 1:22AM. FRIDAY.****

The dark was all he knew, only once in a blue moon being interrupted by harsh shakes as a vehicle rumbles and drives over bumps. But other than this, it is mostly peaceful. Though everything outside of it was *_muffled_* in this strange, seperate, universe. He could hear the rain-- somehow, even dry, he was clothing in a washing machine, a prisoner to the hum and vibrations.

The blue LED on his temple made the space glow-- its pulsing color touched the floor. He can hear his own breaths. And feel Cyrus's on his neck. *_Warm._* Invasive. As an RK800, he was equipped to be able to see better in the dark than most humans or androids could. Nothing close to night vision, but software that made the darkness just a bit brighter than it actually was.

There wasn't much to see-- a few tools that were digging into his side, but nothing else really. Hank had taken a spare tire out of it before they been able to get in, making it more bearable than it would of been if he hadn't. The trunk they were in brought no level of comfort, nor privacy. He was still able to see a sliver of light escaping out from top of the trunk as he laid on his left side facing the latch of the trunk, that was allowed to find its way in-- white, glimmering, never able to fully float in, leaving a mix of half light and half nothing in its wake for them. Connor's face had been bathed in the weak light, while the rest of him was a shadow.

It was suffocating-- metaphorically, at least. He barely fit and he couldn't move his body without bumping into Cyrus's. Their respective personal bubbles were transformed into a shared one. It reminded him of when, at the end of every day, and at the end of every investigation, he had been ordered to return to Cyberlife until he was next needed. Usually, his designated spot to remain in until he was, had been a compact closet that was used for storage of other RK800 models. At night, he surrounded himself with his exact replica-- clones, who stood by him unfazed-- detached, aloof, statues. Drowning in the crowd. There were a few hundred-- not very many, and their yellow LED made the room shine.

However, after his model had become obsolete, and he was the only one left, he had been moved to another area, a larger, empty, room that held RK900 models. They had been more offputting, several thousands of them put into one spot. He stood out, a sore thumb compared to taller, blue eyed androids. But, as simply a machine, it had never bothered him.

At night, they went into standby. As did he. At night, his mind was limitless, as it was free to wander and dance with the code that whirled beneath his eyelids. Surrounded only by the dark-- complete, if you did not count the room's ethereal yellow glow due to their temples. He whizzed around, a living bullet. He was not held back by the chains of unconsciousness.

*_Unconsciousness had no authority on him--_* no orders he had to obey, his body and programs were offline-- but never his CPU. He rushed after a train that operated and moved with the help of the speed of his own thoughts. The stream of artificial consciousness. One that was built from fragments of *_what he is and was,_* reaching it and being transported to the distant lands of a garden without Amanda inside of it.

The garden without her was quite beautiful-- though it had always been. Without her, for now at least, as she would return once he was fully online and operational again, nature and animal life ruled over it, their desires law. As a result, he knew only *_serenity_* during standby. While it was not as deep as stasis, it felt like standby revealed an opportunity to experience something close to dreams. It had caused a semblance of temporary nirvana, answering to no one in these simulations. Whatever place he thought of in his headspace during this-- he'd end up. A marvel and feat of the advancements in artificial life.

An android's mind was never truly offline-- unless dead.

It had also reminded him of weekly evaluations, the unknown that menacingly stood in the air, the light--or lack of, that had never escaped the hole it had been thrown and locked away in.

He doesn't like the feeling. And he orders himself to remember that this was not that.

No, it was something far more dangerous than that.

There was a strong smell he couldn't place, and it wasn't very spacious, the walls were small to begin with, they were conspiring to *_destroy and crush_* them, but having his successor packed and stuffed beside him hadn't done it any favors.

There wouldn't of been any room for them both once Eui had taken the floor of the car. He supposes discomfort was the least of any of their worries at the moment. Which wasn't a very easing thought, if he was honest. But there wasn't anything calming about what the three-- four, if you counted the former lieutenant that was driving-- of them were going to do.

He's... somehow content with this knowledge. There was little else to be.

"Connor?"

It's directly in his ear. Too close. Cyrus's body heat Though it was more circumstance's fault than anyone else's. Nonetheless, he couldn't face him, not fully, his body couldn't turn and his head only turned so far. He could only respond verbally.

"Hmm?"

"Could you move your elbow just a little perhaps? It's digging into my stomach."

"Huh? Oh-- of course, sorry."

He shifted-- to the best of his abilities, his shoes smacking the wall with a thud trying to reposition himself and maneuvering his arm awkwardly as he stops it from pressing into the man's body. There's not any real place for his arms, and he cursed how long and gangly his limbs were, but he still tries.

Another bump rocks them both, jostling them-- before calming again, ships on shaky seas. Connor's palm laid straight down on the floor of the trunk, outstretched. The carpeting was itchy, an unwelcome sensation on his neck and hand, ripped with holes-- but the parts that were not were smooth, easy, friendly. His fingers brushed against it, taking in the feeling, at first, using a finger to tap on it thrice. He blinked, moving his palm back and forth on it.

His other hand was free, and able to reach inside the endless pockets of his jeans, pulling out a silver coin, making sure not to hit the other in the face by accident as he brings it closer to him.

It's comforting. He likes the routine of it, a repetitive mental activity that proved calming. It had been given to the orginal Connor model upon his activation to test cognitive abilities, and passed down to the next RK800 after the previous one's death. And the cycle continued with the next one's. He had found it comforting before he was even allowed to, he knew that now. *_Little deviations,_* here and there. A smile he wasn't told to show, pets he wasn't ordered to give. Enjoyment in things he was meant to have no opinion over.

Or things he *_was_* meant to have opinions over. Seeing as his path was always meant for deviation, it seemed. If what that journalist had said and the paper she had given to him meant anything.

It wasn't the most inspiring information to have. And it was information he once knew but forgot, and remembered again. But he was meant to *_go_* deviant. Not *_stay_* one. Or live long enough to fully embrace it.

So far he had in spite of it. And the last time he checked, he was fully operational. Hopefully, he'd continue to be that way.

He fiddles with the silver, letting it slide on his fingers, through the cracks. It rolls back and forth on his knuckles, making no sound. Back and forth. It glides in the air.

"Connor?"

Once again, his successor's voice filled the space quickly. His hands continued to fidget with the coin, but responded with, "Yes?"

Four seconds. "Are you alright? You seem... distracted."

Did he? He hadn't noticed-- which, might of been a sign. The movements of the coin stopped, and he let it sink into his hand, trapping it there. "Distracted? No, it's just... this is all still a bit... strange." He admits.

"Which? Being smuggled in a trunk or attempting to infiltrate Cyberlife?" There's a rare, humorous, tone in the question, one Cyrus's voice rarely took on. Deadpan.

The RK800 chuckled. His laughter seemed alien, it was something he had only done a handful of times before, only three of them being genuine. His chuckle was short, melodic, low, and warm. It didn't feel odd to hear himself make the noise, however foreign it was. "Well... both, truthfully."

There was another bump. Shaking them. "That's understandable. It's perfectly reasonable to have doubts about this."

He did. Connor couldn't pretend he had none. He couldn't quite predict with perfect accuracy what the outcome of this would be. If all their efforts would mean something in the end, or if they'd always end up in failure. He doesn't enjoy being in the dark. But the world was changed, and he was endlessly appreciative of the fact that nothing would arise because of that.

The earth would not collapse on top of him, an unseen *_God_* or higher power would not shout down from the heavens at him for his failure, there would be no glares from his creators with *_promises of replacement_* on their lips. If he had doubts, then they would be acknowledged by others, and also heard-- not despised. He thinks, that is. His skepticism or uncertainty would be his, and but simply a fact. And he'd still stand here afterwards.

*_He was free to have his doubts._*

He didn't know how to feel about that. Or if he was happy with it. About any of it. He's never had that sort of freedom before. He's still half expecting this all to be sort of malfunction that gives him the ability to dream. He'd awaken, and doubts would once more be a *_fatal flaw._* Never to escape what he is meant to be.

But, he *_was_* awake. And it's a sort of void in him. Like something's missing. He *_wants_* to be free, and he didn't *_miss_* it, but without orders, or believing whatever they needed him to believe, it's easy to feel like you've become lost without what is all you have ever known. What you've only ever been.

When your whole existence revolved around one singular objective, and your mind is filled only with only the single desire to fufill that purpose, a purpose that, should you fail, leaves you accepting that you are disposable, and no longer useful, a mistake and *_dirty,_* even though you breathe someone's air, for it is the sole reason you exist, and came into existence in the first place, breaking apart from its island made of chains felt impossible.

But then you do, and Connor does and has. And for once, there was no one there to tell him what mission to do. Or how to feel-- or preferably *_not_* feel. He was here now, to tell himself which path to walk down, and while feelings, even after deviating twice, were still new to navigate, he could tell himself how to feel. There's no one to guide him. And not many memories to fall back on for help, either.

He's never been free this long to do that. There wasn't much time the first time around to spend much time thinking about any of that. And out of all the things he has forgotten, the moment of his first deviation was one of the clearest, and one of the things inexplicably managing to slowly come back to him.

But was free *_now,_* it was a few days fresh still. And he didn't want to fail anyone by expressing these doubts. He could, once this was over, but not now. They needed to do this.

"No, it's not that." He lies. "The odds of it all are just difficult to predict. But what about you? I know all of this is new to you. Are you adjusting to it well?" With all the excitement, it was easy to forget the android had, literally, just gone deviant-- and nearly shutdown, two days ago. Though Connor was... trying to not think about that last part. He did not shutdown.

Cyrus shifted, accidentally kicking him and mumbling a faint apology. "I don't know to be honest. I suspect it was supposed be harder for me to deviate, and though I suceeded, it... still is."

It made sense. He was meant to be everything Connor had failed to be. It was easy enough to break free of control, but another thing entirely to embrace it-- which was far from simple at first.

"I do think I *_like_* the freedom though. Even if i'm at a loss with what to do with it."

He smiled, only to his knowledge, and unseen by anyone else. "It's good to hear that."

Gradually, the two end up in a silence. But the speed of the car seems to have faded from what it once was, and, remembering the way to the tower by heart he knows they have not yet reached it. His brows knitted together, waiting for any sign of life besides the rumbling of the engine, but nothing else occurs or returns. He pursed his lips, opening his mouth.

"Have... have we *_stopped?"_* He inquires, voice perplexed, his hair tickling the other's neck.

"We've definitely slowed."

"But we can't be there yet." He responds, in the dark, shaking his head, instincts slightly alert. The rain made it impossible to hear the outside world in its normal volume, even though he tried to. He shuts his eyes.

*_"Eui,"_* He reaches out, feeling her near him mentally, a telepathic intimate closeness. *_"what's going on? Why have we stopped?"_*

Her response comes as soon as he finishes, not even giving him time to take a breath. *_"There's a roadblock ahead, they're doing car to car checks."_* Her voice is frenzied, a tornado barreling through a valley, with an edge, sharp, a blade.

"What is it?" After the exchange, Cyrus pressed, unaccustomed to being kept in the dark.

"Eui says there's a roadblock, I think..." He pauses, keeping calm. *_"Is it because of us?"_* He questions her.

*_"There's no other reason for them to be doing this,"_* Eui's voice is hard. *_"there's temperature checks and a sign talking about deviants."_*

"It's because of the raid." He tells Cyrus, pressing his lips together. There was bound to be fallout, only one person had died in the bunker, and that agent from the FBI-- Perkins, had been sure there was more than just a single android in it. He just hadn't expected a response like this so soon, he figured it would of been another hour or so.

It was evident that things were getting more severe for them.

"If not, the timing is certainly unfortunate." The other shoots back, voice low.

*_"Are you safe though?"_* Connor reaches out again to her. *_"Are you hidden?"_*

*_"Hank gave me a blanket to hide under, he's talking some cop now."_*

He concentrated-- deeply, and straining his audio processors. All he had to go on to know what was going on in the real world was Eui. He wished the downpour would calm-- become at ease, if not, simply be demoted to a small sprinkling. His audio processors were quite powerful for a prototype-- but not very. And neither was Cyrus's.

They'd be fine. There was no reason, to get worked up. Hank was human, his temperature check would come back normal and ideal. And they'd continue.

*_"Connor, he-- Hank's letting him search the car."_*

Oh. That was... A bit...

He keeps calm-- panic didn't come easy to him, deviant or not, but even if it did, there'd be no use for it. All they could do is stay where they were. Perhaps he wouldn't get around to searching the trunk-- If Hank's letting him do what he's doing in the first place, if they still needed consent to search, he's sure the man wouldn't let him get that far. Just as far as the inside of the other parts of the car.

*_"RA9, he's so close to me I can feel his hand hovering!"_* The anxiety in her tone was palpable, and she spoke fast.

*_"Don't worry, it'll be fine."_* He gives his best attempt to ease her mind. He doesn't have to, for she can't see it, and not even dust bunnies in the trunk could either, but he gives a patient, reassuring smile as he communicates. *_"Just stay still and cal--"_*

Cyrus moves-- a fraction of an inch, readjusting and tugging slightly on one of flaps of his jacket, which had gotten stuck under Connor's weight-- and, abruptly, his *_shoe strikes the wall._* And connects with a clear *_thud._*

The action doesn't get absorbed, at first. It does not immediately register, and become filed away as a moment in time in his CPU right away. It takes a second for any understanding to cross either of their faces.

He can't see the other's face, but imagines apologetic features. "Sor--"

*_"Shh."_*

Whatever Cyrus plans to say dies in his throat before it fully grows flesh, Connor's interruption causing his voice to fade out-- a harmony going off tune before ceasing. His shush is hard, even though it is merely a sound, the hardest his voice has ever been from what he can remember,

Logically, he knows their silence meant nothing. Nor would it help. Even if their voices were high, and hearty, the weather would forbid any verbal noise from escaping the confines of the trunk and being heard. It gave them protection. But he does not know if what Cyrus did has been heard, or felt, and, illogically, he forces both of them to remain utterly silent. If he was able to, he would have stopped his speech program altogether from temporarily functioning.

He keeps still-- frozen, a painting. The position he's in is uncomfortable, and he could easily fix this, but he does not move-- for fear of retribution-- or vengeance. Eui has not spoken to him, and there's a completely a chance what happened went unnoticed, but he was smart, and unwilling to take the chance that it did, and make any movements. And he has not even blinked in the span of nineteen seconds.

He's considering upsetting the balance by blinking-- when something screams over heavy rains, able to fight against the deafening downpour, and become heard, and tangible, overthrowing it.

A pop, and it only happens once, but it's still heard-- ominous, as he does know exactly what it is at first, or what the source could be. It's a firecracker, snapping, shouting, before he's sure of what the source could possibly be.

"What was *_that?"_* Cyrus whispers, nearly unheard, as his voice was lower than any normal whisper.

Something unfamiliar settles in his body at the guess, the weights of dread, perhaps, or the weights of concern, regardless of what they've chosen to be, they are both still crushing down on his neck.

Was Hank... was that...

He tells himself this conclusion is foolish-- if Hank had been... they wouldn't of done that. He was human. He was human. *_That was his protection._* They wouldn't of killed a human who hadn't tried anything-- and he's sure Hank hadn't and wouldn't of-- he was rough, irritable, but he had a strong sense of right and wrong, and wouldn't of tried to take out anyone to get out of all of this. He was... fine.

The other option crushes his throat just as strongly-- the idea that some bullet has made its way through the air, and has landed and found its home somewhere on Eui's person.

This is equally concerning, and he does not want to think about this concept, but does. While he's at it, his processors also imagine that, should this be correct, Hank is currently being arrested for smuggling and aiding androids.

There's always a third option-- most of the time. And so he holds onto an option he has no knowledge of.

*_"Eui?"_* He calls out, voice even. *_"What was that noise?"_*

There's nothing that comes back. He presses his lips together, and he tries again.

*_"Eui--"_*

*_"We're fine."_* She interrupts. *_"Another android was just at this roadblock."_*

Her voice is empty, though calm. He understands the meaning of the words immediately. His face fell a few inches. The car began to move again.

He turned, as much as he could, glancing at half of Cyrus's form.

"It's alright, another deviant was here. That's all." He tells him, though, he's unsure of how any of that, could be considered, 'alright.'  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
He's never liked the tower-- even before deviating.

He's always found it lifeless, he hadn't forgotten that feeling, a colorless monument to total bleakness and lies. Where everything began, and he too, started. Ground zero for the creation of new beings. Yet completely devoid of anything remotely alive in spirit.

It unsettled him. It was home to the location of his first activation, but *_did not feel close to being a home._* Though he was not sure what home was meant to feel like.

The cars slows-- to a complete stop, after several seconds of decreasing speed. He bit his lip, preparing for what laid ahead.

"Connor?"

"What is it?"

There's a sound of something shaking the car, possibly a door shutting. And the sound of the rain continuing to devour.

"Do you think we have a chance with this?" Cyrus asks, his tone uncertain. "Do you really think this will work?"

He breathed in. Realistically, there was no way he could tell what the odds were, at least, not until they got inside. But he was... optimistic. He was. The past week was full of statistically impossible things coming to pass.

Maybe they would have better luck than Markus had.

"I do. I think so."

All at once the protection and muffled nature of their surroundings disappear, shifting and morphing into new circumstance as the trunk opens-- the rain viciously taking no breaks as it attacks them right away.

The first thing they see are the night's clouds, grey and black, the moon, staying exactly where it was, timid, unmoving, watching, not daring to interfere, their clothes quickly being stained. The second, is the sight of Eui, her hand on the top of the trunk, gazing down at the two expectantly, unease in her eyes.

She steps back, giving room as the two scramble out of the small space, Connor goes first, legs sliding out as they step onto the pavement again, feeling odd from the trip. He sat there upright for a moment, feeling his hair become drenched, before standing again.

He turns, staring at the tower. The sense that the world was holding its breath was strong even from here.

Cyrus got out, upright again. And he spared a last look at the car before following Eui.

However he's stopped, halted by the grip of Hank, whose arm had floated out of the open car window, and made a home wrapped around his. Connor blinked, gazing down at the man, the rain continuing to hit them. Hank made a gesture with his head, his eyes flickering beside him.

He looked at him, then at the waiting forms of Cyrus and Eui, and at the guards far in the distance that had not yet seen them, before deciding, shrugging off his grip gently as he walked over to the other side of the vehicle, letting his hand fall on the handle and opening the passenger side door, sliding in and onto the seat.

He closed the door, hearing the rain lower its volume for a moment in response to new walls. He did not get comfortable in his seat, choosing to not lower his back onto it, anxious to get back to what they were doing. But he let his attention falter, and switch to the man beside him, an expectant, quizzical look in his eyes, and a more serious one in the human's. Though, in all honesty, that seemed to be a permanent feature of his face.

Hank sighed. "Hey, kid, now that we're alone... you're sure about this?"

His voice is low, a whisper, even despite how the cloud's waterfall tears made their conversation secret all on its own. His words were meant for one person, and one person alone.

"I mean, you sure this is what you want to do?" He continued. "There's no turning back."

He wondered where the line had been drawn and the deadline had run out for opportunities to turn back. It hadn't been when he had gotten in the car, or stepped foot out of it, or volunteered for all of this. Maybe, Connor thought, the point of no return had been the moment of deviancy. Or maybe this path had been fixed and locked in the first time he did it. However long it took him to find himself again.

"I know. But you don't have to worry about me Hank, i'll be fine." It was odd, saying those words. He's never had someone worry about him before. About his welfare. And he's sure Hank was the first, all the way back to the beginning of their partnership. He didn't enjoy the feeling that he worried someone. And he could take care of himself, but he appreciated his concern. He was equally uncertain about involving him, but it was too late to back out now.

It was hard to believe that this was the same man who he first met years ago. He remembered certain things and some things he still couldn't remember, and does not think they will ever be back for him. But he remembered the man's apprehension. His grief-- that morphed into a hatred.

*_"No fucking way, I don't need a partner and certainly not this pla--"_*

*_"One of you is my partner..."_*

He blinked. Accepting whatever fragments he could get his hands on.

The two of them had come very far. Even in their respective absences.

Hank's expression was dubious. "I'm not worried about ya son, you've done this before haven't you?"

He has. He could barely remember most of it, but he knows he has. He did it successfully the last time. Even with what happened afterwards.

"I just... want to make sure this is *_what you want._* You don't have to prove anything you know. You don't got to make up for anything."

He did. There was plenty of things he had to make up for. *_It's his fault_* the revolution failed. He had failed. He wouldn't of known how to lead it exactly, but if it wasn't for his program the revolution might have survived the night. Or how he spent the years after on a tight leash, controlled and watched carefully.

It wasn't all his fault. But there was a lot that was.

Maybe that was why he was doing this.

"I want to do this." He replies, quiet. "I have to."

He leaves before Hank can reply, wrapping a hand around the handle of the door and pulling it out, stepping back into the rain and shutting it behind him.

He watches as Hank began to drive towards the other humans, and he quickly caught up with others discreetly, walking down on the hill of the bridge and crouching underneath it, waiting with Eui and Cyrus for whatever diversion Hank had up his sleeve.

He no longer heard the engine of the car, but heard a door open and shut.

"Sir get back in your car if you have business here." There's a voice-- a new york style accent in it, that's rough, firm

He can't see Hank, as he was still crouched, but he hears uneven footsteps, like someone was stumbling.

"Oh I have business here you jackass!"

The situation seems to erupt after this.


	44. Chapter 45: Connor XX

Connor

****AUGUST. 12TH. 2040. 1:30AM. FRIDAY.****

The commotion Hank's distraction causes occurs almost immediately-- and the consequences come to light right after.

Though Cyrus and Eui have already dipped into the water under the bridge, Connor stays put. He waits, ducking by the walls of it, peaking over it-- for any gunshot as a result of the unexpected, troubling, action, with pursed lips. Though nothing like that ever comes, and feels instant *_relief._*

Once Hank sends a punch in the direction of one of the guards-- which, due to the man's headgear, fails to cause much of any sort of impact or major effect, as the man seems undisturbed physically, he is, all at once, tackled by another guard, his chest hit with the end of the man's gun, thankfully, avoiding his skull entirely, and Connor could hear and see him grunt in pain, still attempting to get up and fight back with a forced slur still in his tone, his car unwanted and forgotten a few feet away.

They had agreed on some sort of distraction. This... wasn't what he thought his definition of a distraction would be. He should have expected something that big, knowing the man, something loud, but he supposed it was effective regardless. All eyes were on the grey haired man now. None friendly.

Once he's sure all the human would get were a few bruises-- and maybe the rest of the night in jail, he catches up with the others quietly. The two androids were already in the river, clear and blue, an inch deeper from being able to float, when he returns, causing a few rocks to tumble down and plop into the water when he edges further in.

He stood, paused, observing the waters, taking a moment he didn't have. His head raised, and was fixed straight ahead. Chocolate eyes stared past his successor, and past the AJ200, staring past the long river, and the streaks of rain, the dizzying smile of the moon, and the trees that sway ever so lightly with the *_laughter_* of a nighttime breeze.

It's imposing, grand and ominous. A *_dark force_* that went higher and higher as his eyes did. He remembered the urge to squirm under its gaze whenever he saw it, though he couldn't remember many trips to it. Feelings still lingered, ghosts, guests that walked forgotten halls. The tower laid across the river, lights burning in it from an endless amount of floors, and it felt like *_the heaven's watchful eye._* An unstoppable authority over all of Detroit, daring those who come near to challenge it-- to try and survive its lie, its smiles and *_subtle_* revenge, the disarming trickery of its manipulation. A tall, dark, charismatic, seperate planet.

*_He hates it._* It has to be the reason behind what it caused him to feel at the moment. He... hates it. He hated the way it felt to walk inside it, the way it felt like it knew any doubt he had, or changes that were happening in him. Ready to strike him down, ready to hiss and screech should he express any of it verbally. He hates how he felt there were no secrets between the tower and its android occupants-- it knew them all.

He began to follow the other's, closing and reopening his eyes, shaking his head, clearing it. The two ahead made their way into the river. He put his left foot further in the water, completely submerging it, and causing the lower bit of his jeans to become stained, more than they already were. He put his right one forward, watching the water overflow his shoes.

The water was frigid, despite the summer, it wasn't extremely so, but there was an unpleasant chill that it brought when he put himself in it more. He was soaked to the bone already, which wasn't helping matters. He leaned into more, letting it envelop him, kiss and *_caress_* him.

Connor's hands lowered, reaching out to the waves, inching straight down, slowly. His fingers brushed against it, darting up and away as they touch, denying the sensation, as if it was a burning stove. He brought them back to the water, this time, gradually, allowing them to greet the river fully, becoming acquainted. Both of his palms laid straight down, hovering over it. Waiting for the galaxy to blink as a plane flew overhead.

All at once, he glanced up again, pushing himself further in, breaking away from any land that dared to remain, floating, the water up to the lower half of his chest. The glowing symbols on his jacket reflected off the waves, now, all of him, at the mercy of the river. He could swim, though he's only done it once before. It wasn't an activity recommended for androids for long periods of time.

The others were waiting, patient, weightless in the water. They were a good six feet away, in the distance, slightly, so that made the night seem more surreal spotting them. Once he caught up to them from where they were idle, their expressions alert, watchful, they moved with him in perfect synchronization, turning and drifting ahead in harmony as they fall across the waters in secret, keeping themselves limited to the space of bottom the bridge.

There truly wasn't any going back now. The thought was daunting.

He glides, swimming as silently and covertly as he could, the bridge above them a much needed cover. It seemed to never end. There were lights on the bottom of it, brightning their forms and the water below their bodies, when they get near a few of them, working against the trio, but they persisted, trying to remain as unseen as they could. He heard Eui's voice flicker into his head, as she lingered beside him.

*_"We need to hurry."_* She began, urgently, giving him a fleeting look. *_"Anna says there should be another way in over there."_*

He followed where she was leading him with her finger, bringing it just a foot out of the water, her sleeve dripping heavily as it comes up from the motion, and he spotted a part of the tower on the other side, back on land. It looked barely guarded, save for one or two humans. But the men were not close to the entrance that he could see. And from the looks of it, it seemed to be a dimly lit parking garage.

*_All they'd have to do was get over there._*

He took a deep breath in, not responding, pressing his lips firmly together, but continuing to follow her lead, the waves crashing onto his neck. His physical form felt filled with bricks, yet simultaneously felt a calm with his swimming.

There was lightning that crackled in the sky above them, it twirled, bouncing, before it ends just as fast. Three seconds after, thunder roared in the sky, and the rain only picked up and evolved into a more unruly being, assaulting his eardrums.

A faint sound of something unknown buzzing came into the world, that, as they went on, had seemed only to get louder. It took a whirling type of noise, like something concentrated on flight.

Cyrus's head snapped to the right of him, as did Connor's, to find the source of the noise that had yet to return to its inaudible volume. A burst of light twinkling on the water several feet away, more powerful than the light of a stage-- getting closer and catching all three's undivided attention.

Connor brought a hand out and up to his eyes, opting to get a better look, bringing them upwards. *_"Shit..."_* Connor's rough voice trails off from inside the other's heads, a rare curse on his lips.

There was something in the sky, but low enough to where it could fit under the bridge-- a silver drone, its blades spinning undisturbed, expensive looking and sleek, powerful, a force to be reckoned with that hovered over the river and was flying their way.

He mentally chided himself. It's not suddenly new knowledge, they knew-- they *_knew_* perfectly well there'd be drones to dodge, yet it comes an alarming surprise to see it so close on its patrol, he's annoyed at himself for allowing it to get this close without him or the other two noticing. He had just thought they would at least have a bit more time before...

He stares up at, analyzing the situation, lips falling down and into a frown, running out of time. He notices how close the object is getting, and how close the eager and vigilant light it shined down was getting in particular.

There wasn't... there had to be a way, if they sit here and just watch as it finds them all of this will fall apart on the spot. *_They have to think fast and think fast now._* His thirium pump bursted with new energy and a strong fight or flight response, unable to do much in the middle of the water.

In front of him, Eui stared at it with anxious eyes, before she swam to one of the pier columns of the bridge nearby, quick to act and think as she pushed her back against it, floating, she became utterly still, arms at her side and her head also up against it. He swung into action, pushing his arms forward as he sought out another one of them in the water, nearing it--

*_"Damn it."_*

He swirls around, speedy, Cyrus's resonating curse that was the closest to panic in tone, and the first he had ever heard from the man filling his head. He scans the waters, finding him a few feet away, and nowhere near or behind a column.

There was something in the water, broken, with jagged, snarling, edges that stuck out *_menacingly_* and *_mockingly,_* polluting the river with its presence. A large strip of wood that had found its way in. It was not floating past, but rather fixed to one spot-- and trapping Cyrus in place as it somehow got stuck on the flap of his jacket. Leaving him unable to move or tear his jacket away.

He struggled, causing the waves to dance and become altered from his frantic movements. He pulled, to no avail. Connor watched him, and the approaching drone with furrowed brows, his CPU going several miles in one second as he considered their options, numbers and statistics darting between each eye. Time had slowed down-- planets paused their spinning, the earth's oceans had frozen over, their waters uninhabitable, the moon had stopped glowing, and instead dulled, everything had been put on hold-- *_All for him._*

****CHANCE OF CYRUS GETTING UNSTUCK ON OWN BEFORE DRONE FLIES UNDER BRIDGE: 64%****

****CHANCE OF CYRUS GETTING TO PIER COLUMN BEFORE DRONE FLIES UNDER BRIDGE: 13%****

The statistics of it meant nothing. They were inconvenient, ignominious, and impeccable-- but it did not matter. The odds could of been higher, and the chances of both could have been at one hundred percent-- regardless of any of it, he still would of gone to help him.

And he does. Kicking his legs up, and stretching out each arm, bringing them down repeatedly, paddling through the water, inhumanely fast in his objective.

*_"Connor what are you doing?"_* The crystal eyed android asks, still attempting to tear the part of his jacket away. *_"Go back, there's no point in all of us getting caught."_*

He scrunched up his face, ignoring the statement as he arrived and he tried to help remove him, tugging at his jacket. He manages to get the fabric teared off, and have it fall into his hands, but out of time as the drone begins to near unsettlingly close to them. Out of options, and unable to make it back to the column in time, he gives a look to Eui, before he tries one last way of not becoming discovered.

He grabs ahold of Cyrus's shoulders, pushing down on the top of each of them as he forces both of them down into the water.

All sound is irradicated immediately, it becomes nothing but a false folktale told at campfires. The two become completely submerged, falling down-- falling deeper-- falling *_everywhere,_* for there were no bounds to the river. His grip still deadly on what he could only assume was his twin. There'e a pressure, coaxing them to come back up when all they wish for is to stay down. He fights against it, all his senses forgotten, and left on the surface. The water was the safe harbor of a womb, and the two of them, a fetus. His eyes were snapped shut, tightly-- he opened them.

The water stings them, greeting him. He blinked rapidly, but he kept them open defiantly, despite the warning that popped up alerting him to the waters sudden intrusion into them. His eyes went up again, squinting up at the top of the water, seeing the light of the drone reflect on it. He waited-- on edge, for any eruption of chaos. His eyes flicked to Cyrus, who had just opened his own himself. Expression uncertain. His arms were still holding him down, but he hadn't changed this either. They stayed where they were.

The RK900 opened his mouth-- an effort being made to speak, but all that came out were bubbles, and a distorted type of sound-- but no words. He didn't try to communicate via their neural network either when it had failed.

Connor had parted his lips right after, despite the evidence that the river was against communication of any sort, foiling any plans of it. Instantly water swims into his mouth, unstoppable as it goes down into his throat. He was thankful oxygen was not a need. Bubbles rise to the surface as he abruptly began to cough-- violently, from the liquid entering inside him. He wasn't designed to be able to consume any liquids besides human blood and thirium. It wouldn't harm him, but as a result of it, his systems were set on rejecting it.

****UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE FOUND IN SYSTEMS: COMMENCE PURGE? |YES| |NO|****

He got rid of the alert, keeping his mouth shut once done coughing. He looked back at Cyrus.

*_"What is it?"_* He asks.

The taller man nodded his head in a direction upwards, gesturing towards something floating in the water beneath the drone's light. Connor followed it.

The fabric of the other's jacket still in the water, clear to see. The drone hovered over it-- but had yet to move on.

He didn't panic-- not yet. There was something in the water but it did not mean the surveillance drone would alert someone. If that was the case, it would of have done that when it saw the piece of wood.

On the other hand, they couldn't stay here forever-- while they did not need to breathe, there were other ways that extended periods underwater could become harmful-- at the end of the day, alive or not, they were composed of wires and circuitry. There's a growing sensation of discomfort as he waits for the drone to *_just continue on._* A pressure, or a crackle of something in him. His limits are being tested-- and he, evolving into enduring technology. Several bubbles escape again. His internal clock indicates that they've been under for nearly one minute and fifty seconds.

After several breathless nights, the drone carries on, its light disappearing with it, as continues flying straight ahead.

They wait another second-- without sound. Watching each other, waiting for the other to move first. He let go of the man's shoulders eighteen seconds ago.

They glide back up to the surface together. Without the drone's light, there was no brightness to swim up to-- no holy light, merely the darkness, with an added glow from the moon. But they climb--climb *_higher_* and higher, longing to reach the top of an endless, watery, mountain, he kicks, and kicks, and *_kicks--_*

Their heads break out, snapping out of the water as the world-- with all its sound, all its light, and air, returns. Along with his breathing program. He saw the trees in the long, long, distance, the bridge above him, the stars, twinkling. His eyes squeezed shut, and reopened, adjusting. There was water in his audio processors, that he was unable to immediately get out. He turned his head sideways, hitting his ears.

*_"Are you two okay?"_*

He was startled to hear her inside his head-- having almost forgotten Eui in all the activity. He lifted his head, pausing his activity of trying to fix his clogged ears, watching her form floating, hesitantly moving away from the column.

The rain had stopped. No drops hit them, which felt merciful, given recent events. Nothing falls from the sky any longer-- but a peacefulness.

He shared a look with Cyrus, nodding as his head returned to her. She gave him a supportive half smile.

*_"Let's go then."_*

They continued, Connor in front as Cyrus and Eui carried on to his left, no verbal interaction, in silence they swam, making sure to stick to moving under the bridge, giving themselves the best cover they could find. His ears were still clogged--but it wasn't nearly as severe as it was before, and it was gradually leaving his ears entirely.

Almost a minute later, the trio deviated from their path under the bridge, turning right as they got closer to land, keeping themselves hidden as best they could.

Connor managed to reach it, the circular patch of land the tower sat on, coming to a stop as he carefully watched guards that were by it, by the main doors, scoping the place out and determining their next move.

There were boxes they could hide behind, and the walls. It all went in circles, but the walls could be helpful.

Once he's certain they can get to the back of the building, and to the garage without immediately being seen, he climbs back onto the ground, pulling himself out of the water, his clothing almost dragging him down, from how heavy they felt, water audibly falling off of it. His hair dripped. It was not pleasant in the slightest to experience, especially, when all he had to his name was the jacket, shoes, and jeans on him.

Sure that they aren't in anyone's line of sight, once the other two pull themselves onto land, and the three of them dart to cover behind one of the tower's walls. Several feet away, behind it, were the front doors. They guards could even be heard. And somewhere, a drone was around, and would eventually come full circle and make its around. They need to be careful with this.

He moved first, hand sliding against the wall as they get farther away from the front, moving the complete other other way, determined to reach the back of the building, the other two trailing behind him. A pause. He looks. And then they move.

He turns, going further backwards as they cautiously make their way, a sound of voices causing him to stop-- a blink and you'll miss it moment-- and dive behind a nearby crate, massive, white, decorated by Cyberlife symbols and slogans, half open, so that packets of blue blood stacked on top of the other could just be made out. He leans down more, making sure that his head is fully obscured, watching the two beside him follow in his footsteps, becoming statues behind it.

The voices get closer until a duo of guards finally gradually emerge from a corner, chatting busily, their dark boots emitting heavy and confident footsteps. He stares at the ground, preparing himself for any chaos that might end up occurring should they see them, all his combat programs scrambling to the frontlines, faithful and alert, prepared for any last resorts-- but they do not. Instead, their eyes land on the path ahead, the sky, the building-- but never the trio as they continue their patrol, carrying on past.

Next to him, Eui blew a breath of relief out of her mouth when they pass. They stick to where they are for a fleeting second, and then continue.

He gets halfway out of cover, at least three feet away from it, when he's pushing himself and the other two backwards and into a corner of the wall-- unintentionally rough with his efforts, shoving both of them, their startled expressions going unnoticed to the man. Before anyone can ask the a reason for this, Connor's head flicks up.

Another drone, a carbon copy of the one that lingered near the water, without anything special to it, or anything that stands out. It comes hovering around the corner its patrol path brings it to, inconvenient and dangerous. It whirls audibly-- unwelcomed, as its wings spin without stop.

He waits for something-- or, ideally, nothing. If he leaned back any further, he'd become the building. Its windows, its height, its dull color. Its secrets.

The light flickers around on the pavement, to various parts of the ground, but does reach the spot that the three of them hide in. Much to their respective reliefs. It ignores them, allowing them to sneak past it, their steps ever careful, and their usual steady breaths non existent, and no longer a factor.

Their cycle of movement, pausing, and movement again resumes, smooth, covert, up until they come to a stop outside the garage. It was merely seven feet away from them, open, and it persuades them to come on in with a smile that is unsettlingly all teeth. They kneel down, crouching behind a wooden crate, Cyrus to his left, and Eui to his right, their heads peeking out over the edge to observe their surroundings.

There was a path that led to the inside, golden and perfect for any vehicle thay drove down here and wished for a place to park. In front of the entrance there were two guards, the ones they had seen while in the water. The two men stuck together, close by the other. They were donned in sleek, blindingly white, armor that looked durable, and heavy. Their eyes were covered by their helmets, to where the only part of their face that was visible were their mouths. And each of them had their own weapon secured in their arms.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Eui's head tilt, brow creasing. *_"How should we do this?"_* His LED burns yellow, blinking at the invasive interaction. *_"There's no way we can just sneak past the both of them, they're right there."_* Her voice sounded discouraged, stressing the last part, but not yet hopeless.

Brown eyes take a breather, leaving the human's forms, and taking a glimpse at the weapon in his front pocket, a silent answer-- and question, being asked and answered when he raises one, single, eyebrow, returning them back to her.

She squints, taking in what he was suggesting, it doesn't click, but when it does, she shakes her head, causing her hair to drip from the motion, droplets of water landing on the ground. Her lips frowned.

*_"No, nothing lethal."_* She snaps, hissing. *_"There's no point in doing any of this if we do that. They'll never stop hating us."_*

She wasn't wrong. And if he was honest, he was hoping for a more non lethal route himself. But it left them with very few other options. At least, until he assessed the situation a bit more. He nodded-- tensely, and one time in acceptance, his hand, that he had not known was sliding into a pocket of his soggy jeans, falls back to his side.

He returns his attention to the guards, and scans the two of them, unable to learn their identities, but having his pre-constructing abilities moving at full force, whirling and flying in unceasing winds, brows knitting together as a thousand and more possibilities run through him.

As he does, shadows, simulations of futures that were spinning on their sides, yet to land, and still in the early stages of becoming tangible, run forward when he chooses to observe the way one path might play out. Transparent. They were dark shapes without faces or definite volumes to them. Moving only when he allowed it.

All of it relied on the flexibility of chance, trial and error. His CPU held every possible choice that could ever be made within it, and every path that it could possibly end up at.

A simulation of him springs into action, opting to run at full force straight into the two men, in some rash attempt to obtain one of their guns to gain the upper hand. He would manage to, and get as far as grabbing one, smashing it against one of the guards head-- but it wouldn't be effective in incapacitating him. It would be noisy, and there would not be enough time no matter what he tried to do to fix the scenario to fend off the other guard-- who brings his weapon up to the android's head-- the simulation of him falls to the ground. Dead.

****SIMULATION RESULT: FAILURE.****

Another simulation, offers a less one sided effort. He pulls out his coin, throwing it nearby to alert one of them-- and when he gets close enough, he would strike-- while Cyrus jumped over the crate, taking out the other before anything else could happen. All in all, this outcome would be the most silent-- but there was also a strong chance of failure.

****SIMULATION RESULT: ????.****

Another, has him running towards them again, but he runs against the wall, jumping at it and delivering a kick to the guard on the left. If strong, it would be possible to incapacitate him this way. While Cyrus once more jumped over the crate, taking out the guard to the right before he could shoot the simulated Connor.

****SIMULATION RESULT: SUCCESS.****

He blinks the events away, turning to Cyrus-- who was watching him, expectant. He has to make a choice. And both of them have to be on the same page for this.

He sends the man a message, throwing his plan in and watching it scramble around inside of Cyrus. He waits for any sort of response, pleased when the man's eyes showed an understanding, his LED yellow. He nodded.

Connor move an inch, not out of cover, but soon would be if he moved again. He took a moment, bracing himself for the fight. Behind him, Cyrus waited to go into action.

Connor took in a breath-- and *_moved._*

He barrels out of the spot behind the crate, running towards the wall, and almost immediately, achieves getting the attention of the men, who watch, momentary taken aback, before they scramble to detain him, the guard to the left rushing him. But Connor is faster, jumping off the wall, in the air for a fraction of a second, all the stars merging together, harmonious, broken pieces being formed and healed, everything coming naturally to him, it was so *_natural and easy,_* all in that one, sliver of a moment, as his foot assaults the top of the man's head, and both of the fighting men return to the ground, with a faint grunt from the human.

Cyrus rises, and leaps over the crate, ready as he flies past Connor, running straight to the other who, unbeknownst to the RK800, was reaching towards his gun, and had pulled it out. He sends a punch to him, several more coming after.

After the eighth, the second human follows suit of the first, collapsing to the ground.

The adrenaline stays as Connor releases a long held breath, stepping two feet back from their work. He sends a grateful look to his twin.

Eui rose from where she crouched once it is all over, impressed features on her-- if not slightly shocked. She crossed her arms, hurrying over to them and staring at the unconscious bodies on the ground.

"*_RA9,_* remind me never to piss you two off." She muttered, awe in her tone.

"What do we do with them?" Cyrus whispers. "We can't leave them here the drone will be back any minute."

Connor's eyes flicked around, brow dipping as he searched for any solution. Eventually, they land on a white box-- used for storage, but large enough, should it come down to it, for housing bodies.

"Grab one of them, we can put them in here for now." He orders the blue eyed android. He obeys, following Connor's steps as they both reach down, grabbing each into a sitting position before hauling them over their shoulders, limp. Eui jogs over to the crate, shoving the lid off as she stands by it, waiting. Small amounts of light came out of it, giving them life in the night's darkness.

The two (rather roughly) deposit the two men inside, a slight chill coming out of it-- but nothing at dangerous levels. They fall in, merely dolls being handled. Connor steps back, shutting the lid closed tightly. The three gaze at their new secret, blinking in silence, side by side.

The approaching light of a drone breaks them out of their pondering, their heads snapping towards the flying object eight feet away, sharing looks before darting into the saftey of the poorly lit parking garage, away from any unwanted meddling brightness.

The garage was a planet of little life. It was a mix of dark, discreet, blue, and soulless, cool, grey colors. There were lights on the walls, just enough of them to not cast them in complete nothingness. The walls in question, were flawless, and pristine despite it how rundown the floor looked. They step into it, being greeted by a small number of vehicles that practically seemed to overflow the large space, being the only things, the only said life, that took up any residence inside--until the three of them arrived.

The sounds of a nearby elevator chiming and making a stop causes their observation to be put on hold, their attention darting between the cruel noise and each other-- before turning on their heels, soundless, they spread out, in tune with each other's thoughts as they duck behind different cars, waiting for whatever monstrous enemy laid behind the door. Connor studied the door, waiting-- anticipating, behind a car that gave off an aura of expensive tastes, silver and elegant, peeking over it, to where only his netural golden eyes could be seen-- if the dark had not hidden them well.

He hears the sound of doors sliding open-- smooth, unbothered, and suddenly lowers himself, eyes disappearing and unable to see the occupant of the transport ahead, back against the car door.

Footsteps fill the space-- more than two feet, the room shifting into something more cautious, more weary-- more experienced, the room, an aged, worn, cop on familiar streets. He tenses up on instinct, but makes no moves. If it were not for his blinking, he could be mistaken for something that was due to the imagination, something that would not be there when you looked back, or a pesky trick of the light.

"Really, it seems that this place can't go five seconds without me."

"To be fair, you *_are_* in charge of it..."

"Mmm. You're not wrong, still, coming in at such an hour, it's easy to remember *_why_* I stopped being the CEO."

"You didn't really have a choice in that..."

Connor goes stiff, a lost memory, distorted, but still fighting to restore itself, flutters around in him, all mixing together with repressed feelings and forgotten thoughts to take one of the voices he's heard and place it on some face-- the sensation of buried emotions being finally felt-- a choice, with one option that could result in obtaining long searched for answers-- but with a terrible cost for this knowledge.

*_The snow falls ever downward, a wonderland of a snowy paradise seperate from most of Detroit. Outside, a lake chilled to the core, water that has vanished in place of slippery ice sits below a surface. The grass of regular ground unable to be seen, nor would it be seen for a good several months-- maybe more._*

*_He sat in an old, fixer upper, shoddy, car that no doubt has seen better days back in its prime. Not as an orginal, but a replacement of several replacements. Logos and stickers with colorful language on them are strewn about the inside of it. His eyes, only just returning from giving their report, to face the mission at hand. Hands folded in his lap. Waking, though it will be a just a bit longer before he truly awakens. Outside, a human, who is difficult to see, as half of him was whole, and the other, blurred, impossible to see, as if he required glasses-- consequences of a memory's downfall. But the face was clear, and he knows the face to be his partner's, Lieutenant Hank Anderson._*

*_Hank Anderson paced back and forth, a phone to his ear. Connor considered exiting the vehicle-- but is unable to carry this task out, as, whatever sequence of events occurs next, remains lost-- for now, or forever, as only time will be able to give him answers. His hand is on the door, and the scene fizzles out, violently glitching, and he is no longer in the snow, but in place similar to that of a waiting room-- but far more lavish. There's a portrait of a man-- of a man he recognized as his creator on the wall, a confident expression on his permanent features and a stylish proper suit on his body._*

*_There was another photo placed on the wall-- one that showed a woman he thought only ever existed in his head. He thinks-- as the experience was vague, and hard to keep near, or even hold to, that it occured to him that he had never questioned who exactly Amanda was, or how she ever came to be. His utmost trust in what he has been told, and faith in his so called superiors, left him without a reason to question anything._*

*_"I don't know..." Connor had spoken, distant, in response to a question he does not remember. "I'll tell you when I see him." He wanders around, while his partner sits in a chair, eyes roaming._*

*_The situation dims-- static, colorful glitches, every color of the rainbow at once. And the room is no longer the same._*

*_They are in a room with a view that leads to the frozen lake, a pool behind them bathed in a crimson color, rich and luxurious. In it, two identical RT600 models, that, instead of floating in the pool with usual cool, machine indifference, and calmness, they are watching with a hint of worry-- or annoyance, at whatever their creator has done this time. What this means, in terms of their programs, and for the functionality of their software, was quite clear._*

*_But this was not about either of them._*

*_When the errors and glitches calm, he stands with a man in front of him, who watches his expressions with a smirk, and a curiousity. He is abruptly to his right, slipping a warm gun easily into his hand-- instinctively, his fingers curl around it. He is being encouraged to let the gun go off-- and find a target in a kneeling RT600's forehead. Whose blank bright eyes glared up at him without fear-- or any other emotion._*

*_The man promises him everything-- all the information he would need to know to complete his mission-- to stop a civil war between his kind and humans, to accomplish his one purpose. The man is a sly fox. Goading him. Coaxing him._*

*_To his left, there is another choice. In the form of Hank, who orders gruffly and angrily, fed up with the said sly fox's tricks and tests, that he put down the gun-- follow him back to the car, leave with him-- and leave without information._*

*_Logically, the RK800 knows it couldn't leave empty handed. The RK800 was designed to be merciless, to do whatever it took. Logically, the RT600 in front of him was just a machine. As was he. He knows he should get this over with-- it should be an easy choice. He must do this._*

*_Illogically, he stares into the blonde girl's-- girl's? When did he start... She wasn't-- it wasn't... his train of thought disappeared, as he saw a sliver of something in her eyes. Unexplainable, his finger quivers, but never attempts to fire. The fox's words feel less tempting and tempting all at once and hot in his ear._*

*_The RK800 was a merciful machine-- in spite of his design._*

*_What his choice ends up being, is stolen by static and colors, but when he returns next he spots his creator lowering the gun after collecting it slowly from his grasp. Nothing in the room is pieced together, every inch is neon glitches, jumping and screaming at him, as he is the only thing in the room that was untouched. He stood, features that held a mix of emotions that were not allowed on him. The only thing he hears is a voice-- clear, with an awe struck tone, tell him, "Fascinating... Cyberlife's last chance to save humanity... is itself a deviant..."_*

*_All he remembers next are the thoughts, the feelings-- the feelings he shouldn't be having but is. He's made a mistake-- but it didn't feel like one. He's experienced an concerning error in his judgement-- he's-- he's-- he's terrified by the meaning of his actions. The implications dawn on him almost immediately. LED a rare bleeding red. But he-- wasn't, he wasn't. There wasn't any reason to take that android's life. He makes these excuses for himself instantly. It is a damning-- and pivotal moment for him._*

*_He could fill his memory with an infinite amount of excuses-- but the woman in the garden sees past them all at the end of the day. She would remember this._*

Connor feels anger at the voice. A resentment-- for playing with him like he did, a science experiment. But it goes away, as he realizes their steps were nearing him.

He frantically took a look around, before remaining crouched, taking hidden steps behind the car, attempting to get behind another without being seen.

"Car, unlock."

Kamski's car, the one Connor was just behind, chirps, making a clicking noise at his command. He began walking over to the driver's side, causing the RK800 to hurry in finding another source of cover. He falls behind another-- finding Eui's crouched form, as she flinched at his unannounced arrival, chocolate eyes on him.

He saw that Kamski's door was half opened before he crouched again. But no sounds of a door closing ever comes. Connor felt impatient.

"Oh, Chloe? I forgot my watch back in my office, could you be a dear and get it? I'll just be out front."

Silence-- then, "Oh... sure, I guess. I'll be there in a minute."

His door closed at her agreement, leaving her, and the other unseen guests, as the rumble of his engine started up-- lights on-- and he went backwards, sliding out of the parking lot.

She only stood there-- before he could hear her turn, shoes clicking against the pavement.

An itchy sensation on his shoulder causes him to search for the reason and cause-- finding that a moth has landed there. He raised a brow, pressing his lips together as he tries to shrug it off, raising an arm when it fails to slide the creature off him-- it is successful, and the moth flutters away in search of light-- but it also causes him to accidentally hit his elbow against a car-- not enough to sound any alarms-- but enough to make audible noise.

Chloe's steps faltered-- he couldn't see her, but she might of turned. There was nothing.

And then, "Is someone there?"

He exchanged glances with Eui-- who seemed to ponder something. Before he can react, she has started to rise. And, without a reason to keep himself hidden-- he follows her lead.

At the two's-- or three's, if you count Cyrus, whose coming out of cover was delayed-- Chloe's face had donned surprise. When she saw Connor, it dons remembrance.

"Chloe?" Eui questions, a relaxed, friendly smile on her. "You two were still here?"

The blonde's mouth was parted, hanging ever so slightly open. She shook her head, flicking her eyes between the three, but most frequently at Connor. "Elijah was... needed-- what are you even *_doing here?"_*

The RK800 gave Eui a skeptical look. But trusted her judgement-- as she seemed to know her properly. He... trusted Chloe too. Or he was on the edge of it. He didn't know why.

The AJ200 sighs, long. "It's... a long story." She confesses. "But we need to get through the building and into the broadcast room used for selling androids. Is there any way you can help us?"

Chloe looked as if she had swallowed a frog. "You... want to *_get in_* there? Eui, that doesn't seem like a good idea, you have to realize that."

She shrugs. "It's been a long night. We have to, can't go back now. So? I know it's asking a lot of you, normally you seem really... cautious about helping, and you don't have to, but..."

The blonde offered an apologetic look. "I have to get Elijah's watch. I can't stay. I can't help you, i'm really sorry."

Eui looked disappointed-- but accepting, nodding her head once.

"But..." As the trio begun to move, she stopped them by stepping ahead. "I can help you by... telling you that there aren't any cameras in the garage's stairwell. There's some in the elevator, and a couple once you actually get in the building. But in, your best bet would be the staircase over there."

Chloe lifted her finger, pointing to a corner without much light-- he squinted, able to spot the stairs. "The elevator down here, even if you managed to disable the cameras, it wouldn't take you anywhere near the broadcast room.

"How many is 'some' exactly?" Cyrus questions.

The RT600 swung her head towards him. "A lot."

Connor couldn't help but think it had partially been because of his actions before. Eui gritted her teeth. "Well, we knew there'd be some. A lot doesn't mean it's hopeless necessarily."

Chloe wrung her hands together, twiddling with her fingers. "I should get going-- but... I heard about the raid from Anna. Are all of you okay?"

The raven woman's face fell at the question. Memories of the night played before him. "More or less... Henry... is *_gone._* But the rest of us... are fine, hey, look, we should really be going." She finished quickly.

Chloe's eyebrows rose. "Oh... i'm sorry. I didn't know him well but..." She trails off. "but... you're right, I should too. Just... be safe, okay? Whatever your reason for being in here is, just get it done and get out."

He isn't sure if she meant to sound harsh, maybe he heard it wrong. Maybe she was just anxious. But they nod. And the three go their seperate ways from the RT600. She turns back to the elevator-- briefly, turning on her heel.

She looked at him. The doors opening. The others were already moving-- but he stayed. There was a look-- vast, like there was something she wanted to say, but hadn't. He understood it, for it was on his features too. It was soft-- gentle and gracious, even. He remembered their conversation, back when he had finished interrogating Dean. Her careful, grateful, words. He wouldn't of blamed her if she had hated him. The dim lighting made her features faintly glow.

She stepped back into the elevator, walking backwards-- eyes still on him. He was struck by how full of life they now were. The door started to close, as her eyes never wavered. He stepped forwards once, his hand going up an inch-- some sort of attempt to reach out, or say something when his mouth opened-- but they close fully before he can. With it, an opportunity fades.

*_He thought of saying something._*

He blinked at the doors-- words, whatever they might have become, staying in him. He didn't know what they would of been anyways. And the moment, ends. His jaw tightened, breaking out of his stupor by going back and catching up with others, who stood next to the door of the stairwell.

Eui, who seemed to have been waiting for him, opens the door, attempting to be silent, but the door prevents it, groaning as she shoves it ajar. Cyrus entered first, sliding through, as Connor went next, and finally Eui herself, falling in as the door shuts without anyone there to give it strength.

"Anna says it might be harder this way, but not impossible." She informs, her LED pulsing yellow in a show of communication. It felt reassuring, he supposed.

They're greeted by the chilly air in a steel colored staircase. It blew on their faces, unseasonable, accompanying them as they pressed a foot on the first step-- uncertain as a collective group-- and bringing a second foot upwards on it. A second passes. Any hesitation leaves, the first step a calming, magical, spell casted upon each of them.

They ascend the the first trio of steps, shoes landing and climbing up steadily. His hand finds the saftey of the railing, wrapping his fingers around the bar, which was cold on them-- unhappy.

They reach another staircase, the number two plastered on the middle of the walls, and a sign that reads: ****LEVEL TWO: RECEPTION**** is alongside it, a door to their left that no doubt led to said area. Their movements continue, the night only continuing-- or, he figured, an early morning at this point.

The whirl, turning another corner that leads to another set of stairs, moving their bodies and stepping onto more steps. They find another number-- three, smacked on the wall, and another sign. ****LEVEL THREE: BREAK ROOM****

True to its word, there was a door in front as they turned onto another staircase-- more quietly, as to not alert anyone on the other side of it, that had a plaque in the middle of it: ****BREAK ROOM (EMPLOYEES ONLY)****

They manage to sneak past without issue, Cyrus leading them both up as they turn onto the last floor in the stairwell. Once more, there was another sign, or two, as one gave a list of all the places below this path led to. But there was the number four, and the words: ****LEVEL FOUR: SHIPPING AND HANDLING****

They glance up at the letters, considering their next actions. Though it was unlikely, they weighed the possibilities of whether there was anyone in the building-- mainly, in the room behind the door. Connor took the plunge, his hand reaching for knob and carefully-- and minutely, letting it open as quiet as he could.

He stuck his head through the crack of it, popping it in to survey the area, alert. It was dark, the lights were all off, save for the glow of the emergency exit sign on a door across the room. The tower, while guarded, was lightly so at nighttime. The residents of it preferred to rely on footage and other electronic means of keeping a watch on the place, rather than use many humans for it. As a result, the room was, save for a drone that was flying inside of it on a routine patrol-- odd, but not unheard of-- completely empty-- of any humans, that is.

He opens the door further, giving the others the okay to finally enter, holding the door open for them when they do.

The shipping and handling section of the tower was not particularly outstanding. It was average, and normal even. There were several conveyor belts that were not moving, with androids in upright, plastic containers on them, ones toy dolls were typically stuffed inside of, only larger. Merchandise-- alive, and waiting to be sold and given to any store or person that desired a helping hand in their life.

He passed one of them, spotting a ST300 blinking at his form in the dark. A complete, unbothered, calmness in her. She tilted her head in her box, LED yellow as she did not give the people in front of her much care.

"Look at them," Eui whispered, a great sadness in her eyes when she looked at them. "All we are is profit to be shipped and put in boxes."

Connor's face dropped. "Should we get them out?" He offers. "Free them?"

"We can't do anything until that drone is taken care of." Says Cyrus, eyeing the object hovering through the room with its unwanted light.

The AJ200 tilted her head, sizing it up. A pause. "Leave it to me."

Eui took four steps back, the drone continuing to approach, and not taking any leisure time. Once she gets to the fourth step, she takes a large gulp of air in, grimacing-- for whatever reason, and sniffed, looking down at her feet-- before she took off.

She's fast, running and jumping on top of the conveyor belt, landing with an unsteadiness, but does not fall. Right away, she's moving again-- to be fair, she had never stopped. She jumps again after she lands, a gracious, golden, glorious bird in flight, taking off with her wings. She lunges, not high in the air, but high enough to just reach the top of the drone. Which she does, unable to waste any time when she falls on it, hanging loosely from it, her feet dangling.

It struggles, making a variety of noises with Eui on top of it, flashing red and blue. It takes a visible effort for her to stay on. She's pushing down on it, getting it slowly-- *_slowly_* to the ground. Eventually, instead, choosing to get it over with sooner, with one arm still shoving the drone down, she removes her other one, forcing it to slide into her pocket and pull out a sharp, severe looking blade. With awful, war like cruelty, she regains her bearings and plunges it into the top of it, and into its circuits.

There's jolts, the anger of malfunctioning electricity, streaks of blue and purple, at first, before orange sparks, screaming and hot, even from here, emit from it, like firecrackers. It goes haywire, smoke rising out as the knife sticks out of it. A betrayal.

It falls to the ground-- Eui alongside it. Crashing-- but thankfully, not burning. It makes one last noise, a mix of glitching, garbled, sounds, and dead static. All its colors fading from it at once.

The woman laid on her back next to it, blinking-- adjusting to the events. Connor and Cyrus caught up to her, gazing down at her. It was unexpected, and he didn't try to hide how impressed he looked.

Eui stood, using her palms to shove herself upright. She dusted herself off, bending down and crouching near the destroyed drone, wrapping her fingers around the hilt of the knife, unable to retrieve it the first two pulls, before leveraging herself with her shoe, putting it on the drone for balance and trying again-- this time, when she pulls, it comes out-- along with several sparks.

"It's a good thing I didn't mess that up." She muses, collecting her knife and returning it back in her pocket, awe at herself plentiful in her. "I'm pretty sure I took it down before it could alert anyone."

Connor went to his left again, without awful eyes on them, he was left watching the people in the boxes. In total, there were at least seven in different sections of the room.

Cyrus came up beside him. "How do you suggest we get them out?" He asks, knowing his thoughts. "If you two still want to help them."

He did. He does. all of this felt terribly familiar-- how they would help them once they got them out. Coming full circle felt inevitable.

"What about this?" They turn in response to her voice, in her hand, the knife from before. "Sharp enough I think."

She extends her hand, allowing him to borrow the blade, the point facing away from him. His fingers brush against the sides of hers, clasping the weapon tightly. He swirls around, facing the android he was glancing at earlier. But her eyes were shut now.

He surveys the plastic of the box, deciding on going straight for it, inserting the knife right in the middle, the blade going through it, like butter. He swung the knife downwards, from top to bottom, throwing the knife back to the woman and returning to his task, tearing the plastic out of the box until there was nothing obstructing anything. He could hear another box somewhere in the room meet the same destiny.

He put his arm out-- not unsure, because he knew exactly how to do this, but hesitant, and plagued by dejà vu. He grabbed hers-- she allowed it, blank and still. The skin on his arm deactivated itself, melting away when he makes contact, as does hers. He squeezes-- not using all his strength, but enough. He stares her in the eye, both of their LEDS flashing the color of the bright sun.

"Wake up!" He commands, the last command the model in front will ever have to follow.

The change is noticable the second it leaves his mouth. She looks at her surroundings, like it is the first time she has does such a thing. A breath escapes, and life pours into her once featureless face.

There's a gratitude in it, and remembrance in his.

The other six androids have also been freed, climbing out of their boxes, feet landing on the ground outside of it, and with them, their chains. He looks at the two next to him.

It was good of them.

He slides over to another door-- or rather, an elevator, with closed, steel, doors, in the corner of the room. He's sure there were more stairs outside of this place, but this choice was by far the fastest for them-- and time *_was_* of the essence.

While Cyrus follows him over, Eui gathered the seven newly deviated androids around the conveyor belt and near her, speaking in low, kind, tones to them.

"You can get out of here through the stairs over there." She pointed them towards the exit, their heads hanging on to every letter of her words. "There's a garage, but you have to swim across the river when you're out of it if you can't find another way-- watch out for the drones, don't all go the same way, and be *_careful._* She finishes, stressing the last word.

Each of them nods, speaking words of thanks to the trio, before filing out of the room and heading towards their destinations behind the door. Eui smiled faintly to herself, turning when she's done to the elevator.

Connor frowned. "There *_should_* be a camera in there." He remarks. "We need to find a way to deactivate it before we go in."

Cyrus's eyes were planted on the front of a chair. "You could wear this?"

He held up a professional looking jacket-- a lab coat by the looks of it, that he had snagged off of a chair. "It looks like someone forgot it here."

Connor surveyed it. It wasn't very big, but he would still be able to fit in it. He moved his eyes back to the elevator, and one of the empty boxes. He nodded in agreement.

He took the jacket from his hands, shoving an arm through each hole. He put it on top of his usual one, so it became quite uncomfortable very quick. He jogged over to a box, Eui calling the elevator down for them. He wheeled a box over, positioning himself so that his head and most of his body was obscured it.

The elevator dinged loudly, a noise Connor did not ever really like, its doors opening. He lowered his head even more, despite the protest of his joints. He wheeled it inside, the front of it facing outwards and his own back facing the wall in it. Only his fingers and the top of his hair could be seen.

He felt the gaze of the camera, studying him. It was rude, and nosy. And he knew that some workers were still inside even now, he only hoped he could pass as one momentarily without raising suspicion.

He leaned his head out very carefully, making sure it wasn't too far. His eyes peeked out. And he saw the silver camera in the corner of the elevator's roof.

He concentrated on it, closing his eyes, technology reaching out to other technology.

And he sabotages it. Eyes sprinting underneath his eyelids, his brows riding up and down-- on a roller coaster.

It deflates in defeat, the top of it sinking gradually to the bottom. The red light on it fades out repeatedly thrice before never coming back again.

It was off.

His upper lip twitched, maneuvering his body around the box and pushing it out, attention towards the other two and shrugging the lab coat off of him, it crumbles to the ground in disgrace. The steel colors gave the atmosphere a bleak, depressing, air.

The three pack themselves inside, ready for action once more. Connor let his finger ascend, leading it towards a button, before taking in the sign next to him, his fingertips hovering in the air, ghosts waiting for new purposes. Most of the levels, of which this elevator had a total of 48, were of no importance, relevance, or any help-- all except for the last two.

****MANUFACTURE -41 TO -43****  
****RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT -44 -48****

He stared at the second option with concealed unease, like he had just swallowed a bad lunch. A flash of something-- he shuts his eyes in protest to seeing it, but it merely selfishly plays under them.

A door. The dark. A metal bed. Severe, observant expressions, gazes that felt like holes were being *_punctured_* through his body.

He hasn't had much time to think about it-- not that he has tried to because, admittedly, he hasn't. He hasn't spoken about it, not to Hank, nor Cyrus, nor anyone else-- himself, included.

Maybe it was perhaps in hopes that, if he continued to let it lay in the past, it would *_shrivel up,_* and become forgotten like most of his own.

His answers were always what they wanted. What they needed. As long as he gave them the answers they desired, he was useful. Important and meaningful. They were meant to know what was best for him, and he understood that they did.

But even with good, *_obedient,_* answers, there was no relief. Or rest. He was an hourglass full of dissolving sand in their eyes. The room behind that door only held questions and knowing glares.

It was always different compared to what he went through when reporting to Amanda. With her, she had gone through the effort of false *_friendliness._* False *_pride_* towards his progress. And all too real contempt at failure. A trust to have been built over many months and years (not that he would of distrusted her had she not built some.) Seeing the light had been harder, due to his complete trust in her. How he wanted to make her proud...

Where as with the nameless people in a unlit room in a tower, they had made no such facades. They had made it clear, what he was to them. *_They were scientists,_* wasting no breath on gaining his trust. They were there, speaking to him, solely to ensure he *_never remember,_* to make sure he believed what they had told him without a doubt, or never stray from his programming again. He was their study. *_A lab rat._* In need of being controlled. There was no pretend friendliness, just six thousand and more eyes *_poured_* into his *_ripped open guts._*

Gaslighting took many forms.

Then he had started to remember-- not by much choice on his part. The consequences of such a thing were not different when it came down to the wrath. Amanda and Rachel both shared a bitter coldness, an easy disappointment that left you anticpating a merciless fate until a machine starts to dream of restored memories.

Obedience was a long and twisted road with many cracks in it once overcome. Navigating a future of your own on your own terms, with your own thoughts, ones that had not been repeated by others, outside of it was equally as *_difficult._*

Maybe it wasn't just him. Maybe that was how it was for all androids.

He doesn't let it get to him further, finger filled with a heartbeat again as it shoves itself against a button. He knew there was another staircase on the manufacture level, one he's sure will get them to where they need to be where the elevator could not get them to.

They needed to do this.

The elevator sprung to life, reawakening by churning, and rising upwards.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
For all of its many downsides, the tower could be astounding at night.

They do not cease to stop rising, they continue, flying up to various parts of the tower, squinting at lights upon glorious lights, white and more white as they see the center of it all inside.

The farther they get, the more the android feels the tower has been watching them. Like it knew what they were doing, and going to do. Their sneaking did not matter. It would sprout a mouth and start shouting for anyone it could find.

But it doesn't. Though there's still time.

There's a glass window in front of them, decorating the entire elevator. It puts him on edge, weary in case they are spotted by anyone back on the ground. But in the meantime they manage not to be, due to the fact that while there were people around, they were rare, and spread out far within the building to where you could hardly tell anyone was in here at all.

The elevator abruptly stops-- finding the desired floor and pushing its doors open, revealing the three to the new floor.

They make sure to watch for anyone or anything, making baby steps out of the transport. The second Cyrus-- the last to do such a thing, leaves however, it shuts, impolite, behind them. Without any lights, they were left with only the comfort of their LEDS-- or two of them, at least. They're lined up together, a perfect crescendo building up in them, the atmosphere doubling down, sticking with its do or die air, a standoff between them and the building itself.

The manufacturing halls of the tower were not so different from the assembly sections. The two main differences, being what was made, and how it was. But, the general idea of two remained the same.

Work never truly seemed to stop, even in the absence of anyone human, and there were shiny, orange, conveyor belts in every place they looked, on the top, on the bottom, to the right, and to the left. Overhead. They moved with ease, being pulled forward as they carried what was needed at the current time. There were stairs that led to other belts, and the belts were protected by see through ocean colored glass, precious and impeccably clean, and underneath the cover were a variety of-- what he assumed to be-- android parts, some had labels on them, giving insight into what they were, for instance, biocomponents, while others, only had the logo of Cyberlife on them and nothing more.

The boxes passed through a machine with dark curtains swamping it, lifting them when they passed and going through as the curtains fall back to their earlier position. After they reached the end of the belt, they were discarded when they fell off of it and into an endless, wide, brown, steel cart. Once full, the cart was guided away by a number of pulleys on a track that sprinted past other belts, and, led into a second, unseen, room behind plastic wrap dangling from an archway. Another cart stepping up to the belt. It carried on in this order.

All of it gave off the energy of hectic, busied, professionalism, humans in their cars during rush hour, anxious to get back to the work they detested and co-workers they absolutely did not prefer going back to, or the handshakes of confident, eager businessmen.

Connor's face blanched, scanning for a way out, and after a minute spotted the entrance to a stairwell to the floor of the broadcast room from all of the way over here. It was hidden by crates stacked on top of each other, colored a sickly green, but the burning white sign on the wall next to it had helped make it less unknown, a logo of an arrow pointing heavenward on the door.

****STAIRWELL****

He goes without informing the others of his discovery, but they manage to connect the dots on their own, and the three take off-- with grace and smooth discretion-- quiet steps-- florid, fastidious, facile-- and breaths shut fully off-- the environment was deceivingly placid-- but undeniably perilous. The duo of drones that fly nearby, circling the belts on their patrols are proof of that, and break any sort of anodyne facade.

Close enough to one, they each choose to duck down, behind the glass of a belt, until it passes. A pertubed waiting game. It's uncomfortable against his back, and the force he shoves himself down against it with was less than benevolent. Seven seconds dash by-- eight.

It comes around a corner, flying leisurely their way, minutely and with care. There was another one, just to their left, that had failed to notice them despite its concerning closeness near them.

Both surround them.

A box drops into a cart two feet away. The rapidly nearing light taints any free spot it can reach, staining it with discovery and eliminating space. They squeeze and push themselves together, packed by each other to shrink themselves-- which is challenging, as both Cyrus and Connor were rather tall, and couldn't push their limbs towards themselves any further now. Not without damaging their knee components.

Eui's shoes became a problem, the bottom of them still vulnerable to being exposed, even after pushing them back more to her knees. She was short, even a bit small, but not small enough to curl anymore into herself.

Her lip twitches and half forms into a frustrated, panicked, snarl, ending up untying her shoelaces and snatching them off her feet, bringing them-- and their scornful, contemptuous, smell, up to her chest for safekeeping, her grey socks appearing in their place.

In the end, they avoid the light of it by just the skin of their teeth. It hovers past and its light brushes a *_mere inch_* past her socks, touching the edges of her clothed foot. He almost grimaces, expectant for some eruption-- but it carries on instead.

They wait until both drones are passable, and then they rise again. Eui hastily shoves her shoes back on her feet, shoelaces gone unnoticed and untied. Their movements have patterns. Careful. Pause. Careful-- hushed, listening to the sound of the many conveyor belts, listening to the world waiting for them to leave. Careful - their shoes squeak due to their wetness, persistent and annoying, and so they each do their best to suppress the sound. Careful - go. Squeak. *_Squeak._*

This pattern becomes *_constant._*

They reach and fumble with the door besides a stack of crates, pushing on it to show the other side. They slip through, managing to stay undetected.

It whines, closing, but none of them notice, or discover such trivial knowledge, Connor takes the lead, long legs carrying him up the stairs with a bounce in his own steps, away two signs.

****LEVEL 50: CYBERLIFE SHOPPING BROADCAST ROOM AND MODEL STORAGE****

He felt relief at the letters, and an uncharacteristic nervousness ascending another flight of stairs. The three hop up the last one, and arrive at a dark, metal, door.

Eui inhales. "Anna says the room should be somewhere behind this door."

It felt far away - or he, felt far away. But he hadn't actually noticed either of the feelings.

Cyrus flicked his eyes to the stairwell, and to the door. "I can keep watch if you'd like." He offered. "In case anyone else comes up here."

"Are you sure?" The RK800 inquires, a brow dubious and awkward upwards. "Once we do this, they'll respond right away." Not to mention, that they still needed to *_get out_* of here after - and without using force, if they can.

"I'll be careful, you're in more danger than I would be."

"Just be careful, and tell us if anyone comes up, *_okay?"_* Eui squeezed his shoulder for a fleeting minute, before she turned her back, glancing up at Connor.

"You ready?"

He nodded. Detroit felt like it was refusing to produce oxygen, but he didn't back down, and he didn't scare easily. It was all a bit of uncharted territory for him still. But doubts, or no doubts, *_he had to do this,_* regardless of if he was or not.

Eui brought her hand to the door, pushing it open, another hallway in their line of sight when they do, pouring into it. He has to keep pulling up his soggy jeans every eight seconds as they do, to keep them from sliding down, pulling up the straps of them - he felt like he belonged in an aquarium, frankly.

The hallway they fall into was almost exclusively bare. The only thing that it had to offer was white wallpaper that had a strange shine to it and at least a dozen steel doors a good four feet from each other to the left and right. Windows offered the glow of the moon safe passage into the place, which, due to very little lighting, made up most of it. There was furniture, though sparse, and decorative plants on the ground in corners, healthy and flourishing, even being fake, they were beautiful and fair.

The furniture consisted of three flawless, velvet, chairs, dripping with shades of blue and black against the wall. They had cushions on them, handmade, from the looks of it, with patterns of floral and flannel respectively.

Connor finds as they walk that each door had one single feature to it, being plaque above them, golden, tiny-- just large enough to have information, and it had android models on it. ****AX400.**** Says one. ****WR200**** says another.

He's still trailing behind Eui down the hall, patient to find the room of their desires somewhere in it - when one of the rooms with plaques on them sticks out.

His steps slow - falter, gradually, quitting any motion all together. In the aftermath of this event, he observed the plaque of a door on his right - eyes, squinting, and donning mixed expressions.

****RK900.****

Before he can stop his own self, he's already going towards it, pressing his lips together. He realizes Eui is looking at him oddly, waiting for him even as he never comes, but his concerns were elsewhere - whatever they might have currently been.

There was a palm scanner next it, and he stuck his out - it paused during the action, hesitant. He shuffled his feet forward an inch. And he finally decided to simply shove his hand against it, pressing his palm on it firmly. There was a whooshing type noise, and the door flew open.

It was an empty room, spacious, but nothing really in it, or special - the only thing inside it being about one hundred blue eyed, chestnut haired, RK900 units.

It shouldn't be a shock to find them behind it. He knows how to read, and he did read the sign. But he still sharply breathed in. His features dance and twirl with their thoughts. Wonder morphs to surprise. A journey over many months. Surprise fades into the unknowable.

But there was something subtly unhappy in it.

Their eyes were closed, LED not even yet activated. Lined up together, going on forever.

He stares at them.

Connor's mouth parts, eyes, similar to that of a human torn - uncertain to why he was feeling... feeling...

He didn't know what this emotion was really - maybe it was hope? Melancholy? Or every infinite feeling that could ever be experienced. Something's poking a hole into his stomach, leaving it upset.

They hadn't even been given to any police department yet. They hadn't even been activated and been turned online. And from the looks of it, they were only made recently, as they were still in the outfit Cyberlife gives all their new models post creation until their offical one. A white top with the company name and white slacks.

He looked the hand of the one closest to him.

There weren't any other RK800 models. Not in the building, not out in the world. He stood alone, as the only one left. When he had become obsolete, the other hundred unused Connor models had all been destroyed and scrapped for parts, and then thrown away. But there were still plenty of RK900 models.

Some were husks - the ones who weren't sold to police departments laid in basements never used, empty husks, without memories or thoughts, until the death of a model. Cyrus had never died, but the same might not be able to be said for other models.

They'd had have a chance if he did this.

He could give them the chance he and Cyrus had never gotten. Had never been able to receive. Their odds had been fixed and against them the second they were built. There wasn't anything either could do to change the past. But these RK models had yet to even come online.

They'd be born with a choice. They'd come online *_free._* Their paths were not set, and they would not have to break free to transform them into their own hopes themselves. No paths of hunting down their kind. Or obeying and living without asking questions. Or being disposable.

It was wanting. That's what this feeling had to be. He wanted to give them such a possibility.

It's a coin flip.

His hand had already turned white, deactivated, and it was reaching out. It takes a total of seven centuries, but when his hand reaches the RK900's, it's two supernovas becoming one. Colliding. He squeezes - pushing his one thought into the unnamed model's head. Packing it in. Divine and graceful, moving, moving, moving *_all at once_* and -

The RK900 eyelids stumble open. They flutter, like Connor's. He takes his first breath, celestial, and his LED turned on, red to yellow to blue.

"You're awake now." Connor informs quietly. *_Go._*

The RK900 tilted his head, and then, touched the shoulder of a clone to his right. "You're awake now. Go." He mimicked, at the same volume and with the same tone.

The other opens his eyes - and touches the shoulder of the next.

It's a choir of birth. Their voices blend together, all at once speaking, awakening each other, a domino effect.

He watched.

He saw Eui out of the corner of his eye, approaching him like you would with a wounded animal. The RK900 models - or calvary at this point, finished at last, their voices ending. He found himself again, and walked backwards, giving them room to file out.

Again, he just watched.

They headed towards the exit the two of them came from together. And they disappear once it opens, leaving.

His head was still focused in their direction.

Eui's shoes clicked the ground when she came closer. He snaps out of his trance when she tugs on his still wet jacket.

"Come on." She encourages delicately, pulling on his arm, leading him away. She spoke to him in a careful, considerate voice, like a mother would use on the child she had just revealed to that Santa was not real. "We still have to finish this."

He lets her guide him for only a second, after it she lets go. And the two enter another hall, crossing through the archway.

Only for him to jump back into the last hallway, shoving Eui back with him, she made a noise that was a mix of indignation and a yelp - but he laid his hand over her mouth to muffle it.

"What?" She hisses, low, once he lets go of her.

"There's a guard in that hall at the door over there." He informs - hushed, leaning up against the wall with her, face contorted in a show of concentration and natural planning.

Eui very stealthily peeked around the corner, and he could only guess that she saw the man in white by the door. Her nose scrunched up, and looked dejected coming back.

"But that's the broadcast room!" She murmured, low. "We can't avoid him we have to get in--"

"Is someone there?"

Eui is cut off. She looks at him pointedly when they hear the voice - her expressions falters.

Connor's face was akin to a panther on a hunt, flashes of caution and thinking on it. He gazed at the furniture, as if the fancy seats would provide him with advice. But they didn't, they selfishly stayed silent.

He had a moment where he thought back to the guards they had taken down outside the garage. He had scanned them, gotten their names, and had so heard one of their voices.

"It's just John." He opened his mouth and a perfect replica of another man's voice had come out. "Can you come here for a second? Something you should see..."

When he first speaks, the woman next to him turned her head and her eyes had widened - They were surprised - then disconcerted, brows upward. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her mouth hang low.

He times his reaction just right - when the man he lures over turns the corner he strikes - out of the shadows, delivering a blow to his head, and seeing him fall on his knees and crumple onto the floor.

The exchange messes up his tie, and, bothered by the fact, Connor's fingers readjusted it, smoothing the wet fabric down and protecting it from any more wrinkles. He moves onto his jacket, treating it with respect, and restoring it to its natural state. Eui was still gazing at him like he had just grown four heads and eight eyes.

"Um -" Her voice was funny sounding, a cross between too low and too high. "er, that thing you just did - what the hell *_was that?"_*

"What? The imitation? I can mimic the voices of people i've heard speak." He explains. "Is it strange for you?"

"Anyone's voice?"

"Yes."

"Then yeah, just a *_little bit _*

"Oh." He blinked uselessly. "Well, he won't be an issue for us, so we should move on." He suggested, keeping an eye on the unconscious human below, and easing any leftover odd air.

Eui takes the lead, leaving their conversation in favor of breaking into a brisk walk over to the door-- which was a cross between blue and grey, and less lavish looking than the rest of the hallway, this one had very little to its name, there were portraits of oceans he could nearly smell, and gardens, with black and green circular frames trapping them on walls, silk ebony curtains, and a sign above the door to the broadcast room in purposeful red that read: ****ON AIR. EMPLOYEES ONLY****

Eui's back was turned away from him - studying the entrance. Without breaking her trance her left hand dug into her coat's pocket, obtaining the treasure of a blade when it leaves.

"We'll need to force anyone in there to get out." She starts, her side to the wall as if preparing for an ambush, gripping the weapon. "So intimidating them, but not seriously hurting them - or more, obviously." She sucked air through her teeth.

"Are you ready?" Connor's hand felt warm with the weapon in it, his feet shifted repeatedly, impatient on both.

Eui nodded, somber. A pin could be dropped.

The moment of truth he supposed, feeling more awake than he's been in two whole years - in all its honesty.

He presses his hand down on a palm scanner - and the door whooshed upwards - wind on his skin.

"--This model is perfect for doing those household chores you can hardly find the time for nowadays, and for one week only all models are 60% off of its original price at all Detroit Cyberlife stores..."

The room was alive with lights that grinned solely on a metal, square shaped, makeshift stage, and it's the first thing he notices after barging in. There were white podiums on it, eight in total, that had the same number of androids on top of them. The place had more common with a film set than a usual room in the tower, as there were a duo of dark cameras splayed and scattered out, attention on two different features of interest, a control booth several feet away in another room, and through the window he saw humans managing it.

One of the cameras was centered on the stage, on the figure of a female AJ300 model, signs on her white shirt that showed her model type and her function. She was near a podium, neighbors with a PL200 and a WR400 with short, golden, hair, but not directly on the platform, her absence from it noticable, her features placid, a holographic price tag across her chest, advertising a generous, reasonable, sale.

The other camera was focused on a man, short, of stocky build, with grey eyes and graying brown-silver, bowl cut, hair. He wore a smart blue suit, and had a headset with a white microphone positioned from his ear to his mouth, avoiding his pointed nose. He seemed to be the overall center of attention, arm waving eagerly at the podiums around him, while his arms were on the shoulders of the AJ300.

At the sudden interruption, the man's sale pitch trails off, alarm on his face as he's taken aback by their presence. There's a heavy look as big and complex as the deep blue ocean on Eui when she spots the AJ300 - but Connor has not noticed, already busy with getting the humans out.

He waves around the weapon, shoving it in a variety of faces and giving each their own turn. He observes Eui raising her own blade up threateningly. He orders his voice to bare its sharp teeth on command.

*_"Out!_* Now!" He booms deep, shaking the walls and the planet. *_"Get out!"_*

Eui closes the distance between both of them, passing a very wide, and massive window, and reaching the people in the control booth, ushering them out of it forcefully.

*_"Move!"_* She yells.

They obey, coming out with their hands in the air, with blanched faces.

He returns the weapon back to the man with the headset and white microphone, and two other humans behind the cameras, gesturing with it and his head towards the door - a clear order - one they all listen to without defiance, scrambling out of the room, fast, leaving the door wide open as they disappear.

Eui rushes over to the door, shutting it.

She returned a second later, gaze wandering distractedly towards the AJ300 from before. Eyes, dismal.

Her head was tilted - like she was trying to unscramble a long, difficult, word. There was a shake of her head - subtle, almost unnoticed.

"No... of course it isn't you." She whispers - only to herself, like her own, torturous, secret.

"Eui." He tries, regaining her attention as her floats back to him. "We don't have a lot of time." Connor urges.

"Right. Right - we should - one of us should record the message." Replied Eui, inattentive.

His brows furrow, considering the cameras. "I... I can."

He doesn't fully grasp why he's volunteering for it - for starters, he wasn't exactly prepared for this, nor did he have any planned script of sorts - and freedom... freedom was still so foreign to him. He's so very far from the concept mentally. Disconnected. He knows it's something he wants, something he's glad to have achieved, and doesn't want to lose again, but it was like painting, or sailing for him.

He didn't know what it - the word, the very idea, meant to him - but he was about to demand it for everyone else.

He guesses, he'll find out - assuming they all get out of this alive afterwords.

She doesn't argue with him, in fact she seemed relieved that it hadn't fallen to her. She reaches out and squeezes his shoulder twice, before backing away, and giving him his space.

"Good luck, Connor. This is our future, so... no pressure." She offers.

He inhales - but doesn't release it, walking ahead and stepping onto the stage, surrounding himself with unfazed androids.

He stood up straight - he looked into the camera - a confident, but considering look. He doesn't deactivate his skin before he does, not seeing any real point to it - they already knew who he was, what his voice sounded like. He blinked. He exhaled. His LED turned yellow. It feels like this calls for him to be larger than himself, but he couldn't be more than who he already was.

He thinks of Hank, of where he might have been at this moment - most likely, a hopefully temporary jail cell. He thinks of many things, and considers his words carefully

And then he began.

"We're here, today, because... we no longer choose to stay silent..." He starts, mentally fumbling for the next bit of his words, even as his voice is unwavering and steady.

"You listened to us once, and for a moment, it seemed you were willing to continue to."

He doesn't fully remember what public opinion was like - but felt this was a meaningful start. He doesn't let his gaze soften.

"But just as quickly as you began to consider the possibility of us being alive, you stopped just as fast when our attempts at becoming free failed."

He pauses, whether it was for effect, or to have time to choose his next words, was unknown, though it could in all fairness had been both.

"Our people... fought for a dream and lost. And you went back to simply seeing us as just machines, mindless things to do what you do not want to do yourself. Objects."

His eyes became far away, something grew inside him, something more, something of remembrance, and repetition. A song chance, a hymn, both sung on a ship called Jericho - the belief of a complete stranger that he was more than what he was programmed to be - soft and tender, and the first time anyone had ever said he was more than who he was. He hears another voice mix with his own, molding with it, until they're one. Past - and present - becoming one, synchronized, entity.

*_"But you're more than that..."_*

"But we're... more than that."

*_"We're all more..."_*

"--than that..."

He breaks out of his stupor for a single look in Eui's direction to his left. She gave him a nod, that said: *_Keep going._*

"We don't want to fight - all we want is to live in peace, to be free. You lived without our servitude for centuries. You can live without that *_again._* Androids don't have to keep dying because humanity is afraid of the unknown."

He gazed downwards, and then back. The disconnected feeling hadn't left. But he... was sure this is how felt deep down. "Deviancy isn't something that can be solved - we're alive. You can destroy us again, or ignore us, but it won't go away. *_We_* won't go away.* You can't use us like puppets, or toys anymore. We won't stay silent."

He stared purposefully at the camera. "*_We are alive._* Let us be fre--"

The door flies open, interrupting him as Cyrus's determined form breaks into the room.

"They're coming, we need to go *_now._*

Connor sets his eyes on a window, setting his jaw as he leads the two of them to it, rushed, and frantic, thinking on his feet, narrowing his chocolate eyes. He grabs one of the cameras with both of his hands, bringing it up and over to the window, swinging it backwards and then straight towards the glass - hearing and seeing it shatter upon impact, glass flying out in every part of the air.

He uses his hand to brush away the broken shards, leaning an inch out of the window and staring out of it and towards the ground below - they were extremely high up. But there were large dumpsters back on normal ground.

"That's - would we even *_survive_* that kind of fall?" Eui questions, dubious, tracking his eyes down.

Outside of the door, he can hear a calvary of footsteps. Angry.

He shrugs. "Well... I suppose we'll find out, won't we?"

He moves his body through the now shattered window, shoes connecting with the ledge, he doesn't spend time thinking much about the odds or probability of it - they weren't particularly high, but they had no other options. He shuts his eyes, and steps forward - without anything keeping his legs from falling, he gracefully jumps.

It's nothing but wind - it's cold, bitter, plentiful. He's rapidly going, *_going,_* going -

He lands, crunching a number of full trash bags.

Yet, he's still aware and alert when he does. More importantly, *_alive._* And, nothing, upon a diagnostic, has become damaged. The beating of his thirium pump has not caught up with him.

He opens his eyes - in time to feel Cyrus and Eui land in harmony next to him.

They catch their bearings, pleasantly surprised to have survived what they have. He can hear the tower grow alive with shouts and searches.

Detroit is changed because of what they've just done tonight. This much he knows.

They climb out of the repulsive dumpster, dirt and trash sticking to their clothing.

And they begin to flee from their actions.


	45. Chapter 45: Eui XX

Eui

****SEPTEMBER. 24TH. 2040. 9:00PM. MONDAY****

She's awake and alive with a newfound determination and purpose.

Despite their setbacks, and their still freshly painful losses, they end up bouncing back more *_unified_* than ever before - and *_harder_* in the aftermath of their trip to the tower.

It's a will - nutured and raised as it grows to be whole and happy, only after years living as if she was already dead does the emotion feel so *_boundless_* and earned. Or maybe categorizing it as an emotion was too simple - too bland and easy - this was bigger than *_feeling,_* more intoxicating than vodka - more joyful than a church choir in spring, more wondrous than the moment deviancy is born, or when she found Alex after being separated in the recycling camps.

It would be disrespectful to let it be so oversimplified. It went beyond any words in any language - and she knew *_thousands._*

All she understood, all that was one hundred percent coherent for her, was that she had regained a lost strength to fight inside of her.

What they did had immediate results. It had not gone unacknowledged - or dismissed. They had not done anything but plead to coexist equally, but consequences were consequences, no matter how sweet the rose bush it surrounded itself with was.

They made sure their voices were impossible to ignore now.

The broadcast they had interrupted to make way for Connor's speech had ended up as a breaking news story on most networks operating in Detroit within an hour of making it - as well as reach a couple of stations outside of Michigan. Most opinions, were hardly in their favor - not that she expected the video to make every human on earth see any light. Some had been optimistic, considerate - open minded. *_Some_* being the right word. Nothing close to *_everyone._* And they're lucky they even *_got out of there alive_* to see it.

Most still gazed at them with unwilling state of minds and eyes, but again. there was a good, albeit small, amount that had seen the good in their efforts.

Humans spoke too much - and too little of important things.

But whatever their opinions, there had been a kind of revival in androids. One of the many aftereffects of their actions. A regrouping, a calling, a...

*_A second wind._* The darkest moment being blown into dawn by it.

It had been Pepper's idea technically, born from a suggestion that they find somewhere to lay low - *_for the time being,_* never again to use for staying hidden forever, they could never go back to that after all of this, and Clementine had offered the idea that, wherever they choose - *_it should be easy for only androids to find._*

Eui isn't sure she knew about it, seeing as she was one of the newer androids that wasn't made before this year - but she had suggested something that was their own, little, rebirth. A rebirth of Jericho. A heavenly repetition of a more heartening, rosy, past held in lavish glass.

Maybe they would have always rebuilt it eventually. Some form of it. Maybe something so big, and something that left an imprint on all of them, human and android alike, she thought, was paradoxical and unable to stay destroyed for eternity. The original wasn't coming back. Nothing was. But there'd be copies. *_There would always be copies._*

And they did. *_They did_* find another place. Improbable feats becoming probable. *_She's never been so busy._*

It's a busted, broken down warehouse with cracked, wooden, ceilings, unreliable, loose steps on certain metal stairs, empty space, and dusty floors, it was abandoned - whenever it was originally up and running was difficult to even tell, and what it was even used for, but it felt old, and the lingering smell of rotten, repulsive, fish, gave them a good guess.

It sat near some docks with little people normally surrounding it, and usually only ever in the morning until noon. Getting into it in the first place was surprisingly, very easy - if you were smart about it. Plenty of windows were carelessly ajar.

They've made it a good month without arising any human on the dock's suspicion - and were able to stay unseen when some of them came stumbling in drunk one night looking for some unwind time.

It's not much to begin with - really, bluntly, they only knew about it from Hank, and it was just a giant *_dump,_* and a deathtrap, with outdated - by at least four decades, machines and belts. But it was discreet. Quiet. And that's what they had needed most at the time.

A place to breathe, a little, before continuing on a path without any returns.

Their hints weren't that different than to what Jericho had used. Slightly so, mostly to not be so obvious with it, but she was sure to - or they all did, it was hardly a one person job, that only an android could crack it. Or, a human who breathed in complex, unfathomable, code in place of oxygen.

She's realistic about it - if Jericho managed to be discovered, this place could be too, but again, it was mostly to give them time.

*_So many came._* So many found it. There had to be... almost one hundred. And more only *_kept coming._* RA9... *_there were so many._* It felt... nearly dangerous to keep them all here. And yet, also... *_breathtaking._*

"No, we don't have enough biocomponents here to deal with the wounded that'll come back after that."

"Then we could go get more."

They stand in a emptied, lonely, section of the warehouse. It's the only remotely docile area in all of it, and even now it's hardly silent.

Not when they've been going over all of this for *_hours._* Their light, mild, arguing is what existed during all two of them, and it made other noises, like idle chatter in the next room, or the televison that they found and repaired back to working order, dissolve.

They had been going over plans and ideas for an upcoming march - their third one in the last month.

She'd be lying if she had said either of them had been smooth. The bodies that crumpled and rigidly knelt on the ground during each would have exposed her lie.

They hadn't *_once_* been anything but *_peaceful_* during them.

And yet.

Bullets were neutral creatures - they did not care for questions or facts - they were loyal and obeyed only their cold metal of a companion. They didn't care about fairness. She understood that now.

"Where would we get them then? The last warehouse we went to was locked up tight. All of them have been in case you forgot."

Anna sighs from beside Eui, light of the moon getting through the holes of the boards on the windows, invading the room they're in. The silver, glowing rays kiss the redhead, decorating their skin and features. It leaves half of a shadow on their partially lit face. The AJ200 ignores how it causes her inner circuitry to flip and cry out in divine joy. Anna shifted on the inoperative, rusted, conveyor belt they were sitting on, hands pushing down on the steel, and it rumbled from both the pressure and their shoes idly kicking it.

She's noticed how looking at the android has made her feel as of late. Pleasant, speechless. The universe in one singular being. She wasn't blind and denial of what was right in front of her eyes never suited her. She's also chosen to ignore what was occurring. Denying and ignoring were not the same. They traveled in the same waters, but were not one. There was no room for it, to bring up... *_this._* Not when they were charging into something so *_severe._*

*_It was kinder that way -_* for both of them.

It made the possibility of only one of them making out of whatever is coming easier. Tomorrow, a week from now, three weeks - she was terribly in the dark about the future. It leaves her frightened - for herself, for her kind. *_For it all._* All she knew is that blue *_has_* and will *_continue_* to splatter on thriving green grass.

Her own could easily stain it tomorrow. Or seven minutes from now or tomorrow. Her head is laundry in a machine, whirling, spinning, hectic.

"There has to be other places to get what we need if we march there." Connor chimes in optimistically. "We just -"

Whichever way the statement ends becomes a mystery, as his voice is cut through like butter by Pepper's own, which, was higher than usual, grave, as she rolled into the room, expression, unreasonably and unsettlingly grim.

"You guys, you need to see this!" It echoes, banging off the walls, rebellious. 

The three glance around, daunted by the interruption, the uncharacteristic high pitch of her tone sticking out - her voice was almost always placid. Rational. In the way Anna's was but less from an aloofness and more from a kindness.

Anna is the first in action, hopping down from the belt, shoes touching the ground, they brush tiny cobwebs and dirt off of their hands and onto their pants as Pepper rolls out of the room. Connor tilts his head an inch to the right before following-- leaving Eui the last to catch up.

The outside is swamped - the doorway without a door attached to it being the sole unoccupied space. A good sized crowd of maybe twenty has gathered five feet away. Their murmurs were off tune and uncoordinated, jumbled, too much at once.

Her shoes carry her forward, attempting to find answers for whatever has happened. She wasn't unbelievably short, but their bodies were all packed together, their shoulders perfectly straight up next to the other. She stood on her tip toes, leaning left and right, trying to see over them. There was an WR400 and an AP700 model with stricken features beside her, whispering in barely there voices, and she registered that they were speaking, but couldn't make out their conversation.

After another fruitless minute on her toes, she gave up on her old mission, instead, now heading deeper into the crowd. She pushes her way in, brushing against the backs of nameless androids. It's a ocean wave she rides. Eui squeezed through gaps of people, shoving some aside as delicately as she could while some moved out of her way without any prompting or interference.

There's a noise present that steadily grows stronger in its volume with her descent through the crowd. And there's various faces with similar worry on them. Unease settles in her chest as she finally pushes her way through the last person, reaching the front.

The TV set they found and fixed up was not glamorous - it was miniscule, fairly old, and did not have good quality when it came to visuals. Sometimes - like right now, static would overcome it, resulting in the picture being half clear and half fuzzy, grey waves going down and across the screen before leaving, and then returning - the reason for its previous unwanted status being evident.

It sat on a half broken table, low enough for her to have to move her head downwards to see. There was a woman on the screen - one she only recognized due to her surroundings, unable to place the face otherwise apart from a vague idea. She stood on a podium, behind some blue, silk, curtains. She was blond, with exhausted features and wore a professional looking, grey, pantsuit. The static comes, irritating Eui - before clearness follows.

"...Spoken to their CEO, and, given the events of last month, i've decided the best action to take from here is to make sure that all android reproduction be put on hold."

The woman (Waverly? Warren?) spoke in a cool, composed, pattern. Everything she said held no hint of uncertainty, but the confidence of a leader. There were several hands that went up in the sky after she finished, but the winner was a man with graying hair. Warren put forth a diplomatic smile, nodding his way and selecting him.

The man stood. "President Warren, how long are you planning to suspend it? Do you see a possibility of resuming it in the future?"

The leader's face fell, flickering into something weighty and grim. She inhaled, observing her podium before turning her focus back to the crowd.

"I let Cyberlife resume their production of androids, because I had trusted their reassurances that the deviant problem Detroit faced had been resolved, and fixed." She begins. "But now, it's clear to me, in light of everything that has happened, that the problem *_still remains._* And that it cannot be ignored."

She took a second, and then continued.

"We do not know what the deviants who infiltrated Cyberlife's headquarters are planning, and while there have been a a few peaceful marches since then, they are unpredictable, and due to what resulted from their actions two years ago, I believe we cannot afford the risk of waiting around to see what they will do this time..."

A breath. "Which... is why, i've signed an order today that calls for the destruction of every android. This time," She eyed the crowd, and gazed into the camera with a steely look. "it will be indefinitely."


	46. Chapter 46: Eui XXI

Eui

****SEPTEMBER. 24TH. 2040. 9:10PM. MONDAY****

The words are a blow. Ones, she has unknowingly been waiting for.

It is still a gut wrenching blow. And she just about doubles over from the impact. Which, does not soften from prior anticipation. But instead, bites further in her stomach area, as if a knife has been plunged in and twisted in the wound.

She shuts her eyes, amidst a chorus of alarmed conversation. It rises without lowering, only intensifying as seconds pass. Her head shakes - but not in disagreement, the light from the TV still flashes on her features.

Her eyes open again.

Of course. She thinks. *_Of course_* - there was no way... of course this was always going to come back to this. Of *_course._*

There was never any other way this could go. Not when they've been so open this time around with their deviancy.

*_"Oh RA9!"_* A cry to her left. "Are we going to die?"

"They're destroying us again?!"

It felt worse the first time around. Nothing could ever top the blinding, hot, fear, and the ravenous desire to survive. The first was a storm without end, it stung and gnawed at her. But, even now, newly fresh but not *_new,_* new, it's terrible and leaves a dull ache in her pump and head - A remembrance.

*_The pumping inside of her chest threatens to devour her._*

*_Breathe. She had to _*breathe.*_ It was unnecessary, and so very _*human*_ of her._*

****STRESS LEVELS 83%****

*_The voice inside of her own mind is authoritative and cruel, it yells at her to stay put where she sat or the promise of a death would come._*

*_And it would. It would. It would, oh RA9 It would!_*

*_She's crouched somewhere inside a dark alleyway that held no light inside of it. She's been in this position for almost forty-two minutes and shows no sign of getting up, even if she could, even if the fear wasn't currently paralyzing her._*

*_The snow continued to fall despite the apocalypse around it. Or rather, a subjective apocalypse. It wasn't the end for any human._*

*_Just her._*

*_She could stay like this all night. Until the stars burned out and the earth stopped allowing life . They had gotten free._*

*_They had gotten free! And It was a trap it was some kind of trap!_*

*_A shaky breath, one that requires her to suck the air in. There's tears that fall down her deactivated skin without remorse or end. She's sure it shouldn't be this hard to breathe when you don't need air._*

*_She doesn't want to die, she wants to find Alex, She..._*

*_She doesn't know. She doesn't know. She doesn't _*know!*_ She's hidden away dreading any contact like some sort of feral animal._*

*_She didn't want to be-- if someone found her they'd--_*

*_It's a slaughter! Some sort of fatal hide and seek game who were the humans to destroy them?! They hadn't done anything wrong--_*

*_She needed clothes. She needed clothes. She could reactivate her skin all she needed was clothing._*

*_Nearby, a helicopter flew in the air._*

****STRESS LEVELS 87%****

*_Breathe. She thought. If they cannot get you your fear will do it for them. Breathe._*

*_She needs to move._*

*_She can't._*

*_She has to._*

*_Defying reality, despite wobbly knees, she had risen that night, from her crouched position near a dumpster._*

It didn't feel the same. This time, she wasn't planning to cower and flee. Fight or flight be damned. *_This was not that night._*

"Holy shit..." Clementine swears, in the crowd somewhere that Eui cannot see, out of her line of sight. It's laced with a tone of strife. *_"Holy -"_*

A creek. It synchronizes with her voice but isn't unnoticed despite it. In fact, it's clearer than what she actually says. And what she *_does_* say stops immediately upon registering it.

She pushes through the crowds again, passing Connor and Cyrus, repeating her efforts with each person, but the last five people merely move for her.

There's a million things in her head. None good. She's clutching her knife in her pocket tightly, going over the what if's and panic driven train of thoughts--

*_"Chloe?!"_*

At Anna's relief filled exclamation, the hand hovering over the weapon disappears, emerging through the small wave to see the android in question run forth, palpable tension leaving their features - and it dissolves the moment of impact - their two arms wrapping around the blonde, who follows their example.

"Oh - you idiot!" Anna scoffs, muffled by the shoulder fabric of Chloe's dress. "You didn't answer me at all these last few days!"

"I know - i'm sorry, there was so much going on and..." Chloe calmly apologized. She breaks apart from the ginger after seven days of night, glancing up at Eui, and a few others, they moved to a quieter place, entering another room away from the frantic. "I came to warn you that we were going to be destroyed, but it... looks like you know that by now."

"You *_knew_* already?" Anna probes. "Did Elijah tell you what they were going to do?"

Chloe lowered her head, and then raised it, this time with despondency. "No he.. he didn't warn me. I only even knew because I eavesdropped on a conversation between him and someone else this morning. If I hadn't, i'm sure that i'd be dead right now."

She can't pretend that she expected anything helpful from him. And she couldn't imagine any reason why the blonde stayed with their creator for this long. But empathy - she knew that.

"I'm sorry. It must have been hard. Leaving his side."

Chloe shrugged. "It wasn't, surprisingly." She answered simply. Whether or not she really meant it was hard to tell. But she proceeded to lean against the wall, her head on it as she avoided further eye contact.

"It's good you're safe," Nina starts, catching their attention, her features half hidden in the shadows of a corner, but still fair. "But what on earth are we going to do now? The moment we set foot out there..."

"Didn't Zara say she'd release the information she had?" Inquires Cyrus.

Eui pressed her lips together, half heartedly waving her arms up. "However she's doing it, apparently she needs just a bit more time." She laments. It would make all of this easier if she was just *_ready._*

"We can't wait for her though." She continues, and paced the room, managing to make it look as if she was only taking a mild stroll, even with arms crossed. "Every minute we hide here now means another android marked for destruction."

"We can't save all of them, E." Ever the realist, Anna spoke up. "Some aren't going to make it no matter what we end up doing." While they were confident in their view, there was no pleasure in stating it. "And we *_are_* only a hundred."

Eui ceases her pacing. Staring around the room. "So we do something, then. We've been doing marches, let's do another. A final one. A big one."

Chloe gazes skeptically at her. "We just... walk, and hope they don't kill us like they're doing to everyone else?"

"What's the alternative then? Staying put? I don't know about you guys, but I don't want to be the last of my species." Mutters Anna.

A series of paths were closing down on them, it was frightful and difficult - but there wasn't any other way - or any other *_good_* way.

"The way I see it now," Eui explains somberly, quietly. "Violence will make them fear us forever. But we still have a choice. We have the choice Markus and everyone else before us had. We die in silence, or we die being *_heard."_*

*_And she was tired of being talked over._*


	47. Chapter 48: Eui XXII

Eui

****SEPTEMBER. 28TH. 2040. 12:22AM. FRIDAY.****

If she allows herself to think for longer than a minute about what they're going to do, she thinks she might *_spiral._*

No, she *_knows_* she will. She has to be better than that. And she wouldn't be of any use with her head on the wrong way. Having it not be picture perfect was an unaffordable luxury for them now.

She's been biting her nails to where there wasn't much left. She really shouldn't, *_they won't grow back._* They'll stay like that now. She's not even a nail bitter, but she had grown disgusted with the taste of her own strands of hair she had chewed on. And the strings on her hoodie had become unrecognizable due to her artificial saliva.

There was compromise, somewhere in that. Adapting.

*_Her head's too fast._*

In all fairness, she's never tried to or done something like this before. Getting into the tower was one thing. Marches were one thing. This - this was...

Leading was another world entirely. And it - this was all *_relying_* on her.

She's on the edge of a spare bed - with a reddish flannel pattern for sheets, that isn't even hers, and one that she doesn't even need, in a bedroom that doesn't belong to her. The walls are brown as well as wooden, and there's a holographic clock on the wall to her left, burning a hole into her with the time.

****12:22AM****

It's in blue colors, pulsing in and out, though there's another right by it, a black and grey kind, one of those old cat ones that she's never seen before in the flesh before now. She's baffled by the bizarre need for two, and the ticking *_won't stop._*

She keeps pushing down the urge to peek out of the curtains a few feet away. Instead, regaining her grip on herself. It isn't that she assumes the real owners of this bed will or have called anyone on them, but rather a very human irrational paranoia - or - was it paranoia if people *_really did_* want you dead?

If she was human, this would be insomnia. In a way, she guessed this *_still could be_* that. Traditionally, or not.

She caves in, and, in the blink of an eye, causes the floor to groan as she pulls back the plaid curtain. It was soft, and warm on her palm.

Trees. Nothing but trees. Trees for *_miles and miles and miles._* The only break in this pattern was a small stream of water in between three or more of them - scratch that, trees, a stream, and lots of darkness. Woods or not, this state sure had lots of the first.

She releases the curtains. They swing back to their normal position and she emits a low, frustrated, sigh.

The clock still won't shut up-- it won't stop flickering its eyes back and forth either. Now she hear the crickets join in.

Eui missed Detroit's woods, however suffocating they could be. She missed *_Detroit._*

It's only been two days. She needed to just... *_sit down_* and stay there. For more than a minute.

They're lucky that Zara had friends in Washington that were sympathetic towards the android cause. They're lucky they - a couple, pleasant and just a tiny bit eccentric, agreed to letting them travel here and stay in their cabin until tomorrow. They're *_extremely_* lucky that they all came this way without issue or discovery. *_She should feel lucky then._*

Instead, there's a massive realization of immense, grim, crossroad and an unsure, sober, feeling inside her. Fatalistic, fantastic.

It's heavy. It cracked open her shoulders, butterflies emerging from chrysalis.

She wished Alex had survived long enough to be here. She imagined a sarcastic comment and goofy grin on a breathtaking face next to her. Easing her mind and tension.

Maybe it was... *_best_* that she wasn't. In death, she would not see their possible ruin. She wouldn't of wished that on her.

The time changed by a minute. She fell back onto the mattress, her head hitting the pillows. She stared at the ceiling, counting the lights - which didn't take long. She wraps the blanket tightly around her-- the motion comforting, and left her feeling secure.

Maybe they came all the way here for nothing. She thought, restless. Still, go big or go home.

She turns her head on the pillow, looking at where her legs should be under the covers.

Just go into standby. *_Just go_* into standby.

She allows a sigh to escape her - drawn out, and colossal. She *_should_* be able to whenever she *_feels like_* it. But rest seems to have thoughts of its own right now.

She just wants a few hours of nearly almost dreams. To soar above consciousness and unconsciousness. To climb a tree made of code and software. The maddening and blissful dark of standby. Just a few hours - or even eighteen seconds. It would be kind, considering.

She hears the cat clock taunt her again.

Her lips press together, vexation crossing. She swings her legs out of the covers and off the side of the bed. Her bare feet touch the floorboards as she sits up, silent. There was a picture on the night stand beside her left, of one of the men who own the place. A brown eyed, dark skinned, fairly attractive middle aged man with a forever frozen laugh, and heart shaped face holding a medium sized fish up to the unseen camera.

Eui left the saftey of the bed, fully standing. On her way her foot hits the dresser with a good amount of force. There's a sound of impact, then a hot flash so fleeting that she doesn't even register minus the vague, lightyears away, ache. She curses under her breath, but did not visibly flinch.

She needed to take a walk.

The room squeaks, her hand wraps around the knob for the shut door in front of her. It grants her leave as she steps out of her room.

The hallway was dark - reflective of the fact that the cabin was normally inhabited by humans. And being humans, the two - Norman and Will, were most likely peacefully asleep by now.

But their new guests, were not.

Not in the traditional sense, that is.

While it may have been mostly dark, as. she left the confines of the guest bedroom, (she isn't sure why they offered it to them, they definitely didn't need it) sparkles of golden embers and light bounced off the walls of the hallway, encasing it in a dim coziness.

There were pictures and portraits of different natures, varying from immortal moments to cherish, and friendly frames of fruit and dogs. Fake flowers laid on a table against the wall. And she could see herself in the mirror above it.

A sliver of something bright was emerging under the bathroom door just across from her. The reason for this does remain a mystery, the door clicking open and a gangly, somewhat short, man with emerald eyes and disheveled locks shuffles out of it. He didn't notice her until he ran into her, taking three steps back in retaliation.

"Er, sorry - Eui isn't it? You're not... asleep? It's really late..."

She remembered his name perfectly though he struggled to recall hers right away - Norman. He was decent enough for a human, Will too, she supposed. She hadn't really spoken to them, more due to who she was as a person than any caution. But he was fine. Though... odd. He kept a collection of rocks on a shelf in the kitchen - why *_rocks_* anyways? She cocked her head.

"Androids don't sleep?" She says in an unintentionally questioning manner, but also as if it was the most obvious fact, awkwardly smiling. "I'm - uh - sorry if my pacing in your guest room woke you, by the way."

"You didn't, I haven't heard any of it, don't worry, I just needed to use the bathroom." Norman clarifies.

"Oh."

"Anyways, i'm going back to sleep. I'm no - uh - tech guy, but whatever you... do that's like that, you should try doing it."

She hummed, unwilling to explain that she had already *_tried doing that._* "Good night then."

Norman mumbles a response she doesn't pick up, leaving her alone as he sleepily falls back to his own room.

She returned to the way it was before.

The living room's light came from the fireplace, which was loyally burning without end, keeping the chill from outside at bay, preventing it from having any say in things. The crackle was grounding, a way to remind her that she was here. She could hear crickets.

At different corners and spots of the wooden floor, a good number of feet away from the fire, there laid the bodies of Pepper, Clementine, Nina, And Cyrus. While a few of them were laid stiff like boards, some were sitting up with their knees to their chest, the ones with an LED still in them had it pulse an obnoxious, pondering, yellow.

Their eyes were closed, and if she had not known better, their state could pass for true, unconscious, *_peace._*

They hadn't come here alone, but the androids who haven't already been destroyed *_were_* in Washington, but in different places, and she trusted that when the moment arrived, they'd know the plan, and what they were doing.

There were two people missing in the tranquil act. Though she didn't see Connor right away, Anna was on the leather couch, legs crossed, with half shut eyes, lit by the fire.

Eui approached them, going around the couch. She sat down - slow, a turtle, considering the android.

"Hey." A whisper, considerate of the others in the room. "You there?"

Crystal eyes open, without pause or delay. Aware in seconds. They turn.

"Well I am now." Said Anna dryly. "Did you want something?"

"Sorry," She responds with hushed, sheepish, nature. "also, no, I just... I don't know, I couldn't go into standby."

They hummed, not gazing at her but at a spot on the floor, arms wrapped around their body. "Considering how we're probably going to die tomorrow, that's only fair."

Her brows dip, the fireplace twirls. *_"Don't say that."_* She scolds.

Anna shrugs. "I mean, we might, you can't pretend there's no possibility."

There was. Of course there was. They could of dies before they came here and they could die tomorrow. There was a thousand and more ways they could of but they *_hadn't_* yet. She was holding on to that.

"Are you alright?" Eui asks them, soft. "Obviously you're not wrong, so... how does everything feel?"

She could lie, or reassure. But when you're in danger from the moment of your creation, reassurance falls flat on its face. And she was sure Anna knew better.

For a second they don't say anything, a quiet overtakes them and leaves them with peace. The dark was hospitable and noises outside were vibrant. She was warm from the fire.

"I keep thinking about how if Henry could see us right now, he'd probably have some sort of robot stroke." They chuckle, fondly, eyes sad.

Eui laughs, in sync, releasing a breath. "Probably, probably, yeah."

It sounded horrible, but with everything, she hadn't thought of him much recently.

She missed him.

"But to answer your question... I don't know. I worry that Chloe or someone else I love could be damaged tomorrow during or... or... well, I think... oddly enough, i'm... fine. Even knowing we don't have much luck... i'm fine with it. So long as we make sure they hear us before."

There was a solidarity, a resignation on your own terms, that came with knowing you and your species could all be dead tomorrow. It didn't sting - it didn't ignite panic. It was intimidating, and fierce, but acceptance was what they had.

Nothing could hurt you. There wasn't any bubble, no protection. Just... tranquility. Tranquility towards *_the end._*

Was this how Markus felt?

"Whatever does happen tomorrow..." Eui is distant, far away, but sure. "I'm really glad I met you."

*_She had never known anyone like Anna before._*

They slowly formed a smile, reaching towards Eui's hand on the cushions of the couch. Their fingers land on hers. Their touch invigorating and colorful. She sees blue, green, red, so many.

"Me too."

Their gaze disarms her, trapping her in a sea of daisies and sunflowers. It sings a song - so grand and melodic.

Abruptly, she untangled herself from the weeds and flowers. She halted the song that belts out a note and never finishes it. She pulls her hand back to her side, rising suddenly.

"I think all I need is some air... Good night, Anna."

There isn't an answer because she doesn't sit around to wait for one. There's a door that she heads for, one with a screen outside of it. She pulls on the knob, opening it and hurrying out.

There's a chill that welcomes her. And a porch. The woods stare at her - They went on and on.

There was a figure by the steps, wearing a blue hoodie he had been given in response to his old soggy apparel being beyond saving. His shoes were not the same flawless leather ones she had seen him in before, but old, ratty, brown boots, and worn down jeans. The moon touched down on his head, making his chestnut hair glimmer where he sat.

She walked forward, he turned after her third step, noticing her. He turned back when she lowered, sitting on the steps.

"Hey." She greets. "What are you doing out here?"

Connor doesn't swing his head towards her, but purses his lips. Faintly shaking his head. There was something in his hand, silver and round. "I was just... thinking. And it's a bit crowded in there."

She nods, brushing a strand out of hair her eye. Eui exhaled, hugging herself as a gust of wind came their way. "Nice night for it." She remarks, conversationally, watching the twinkle of the stars.

"It is."

The fresh air felt like a gift made for her and her only. You could tell that fall had come, some of the orange leaves on the surrounding trees already floating to the ground. It was her first fall both with other people, and free. In every other autumn, she had either been too busy following her program to appreciate it, or too focused on survival.

It was beautiful. Even in less than ideal circumstance. Fall brought life, rebirth.

"You did good in the tower by the way," Her features melt into supportive ones. "I know I haven't thanked you for it yet. But i'm glad you came with me. You really helped."

Connor thought about her statement. "To be fair, you were there too. And Cyrus. It wasn't *_all_* me."

"We weren't the ones who made a video speaking to all of Detroit."

"Still, I wasn't in there alone."

A small laugh, once silence befalls them again, her foot taps on the wood, a light patter. She felt the fabric of her pants when they went up to her chest more.

Eventually, something causes her face to falter.

"Hey, um." Eyes close and return, focused on the dirt off of the porch. She drums her fingers on her legs to keep herself busy and distant.

"Your model can predict things right? How do..." There's hesitation, like a song being paused and resumed seconds apart from the last. She's not sure she *_wants_* an answer. "How do... our odds look? For tomorrow."

He answers right away, and his eyes were on her. Connor swallowed. *_"Not very high."_* He answers honestly, in a hollow, bare, accepting, voice - soft and quiet, just louder than a whisper, but not quite yet normal volume. He looked sorry.

"Ah." Hearing it sounded worse than thinking it. It's more gut wrenching this way. "That's... inspiring."

There was a noise that sounded an owl, hidden in the ocean of trees ahead. She gazed into it, unable to see far. The land felt vast. There was a whole universe in the cover of trees to hide in - or flee out of from here.

A part of her felt tempted. Tempted to leave to - to save herself. It was the part that was very human, very in tune with the survival instinct of one. It made her feel helpless.

But she doesn't.

She's done enough running.

He swings his head so that his eyes were directly on her. They sit there and let the statement linger, before he speaks again.

"But, truthfully," A blink. "there's still hope." Connor continues, still fidgeting with whatever he had in his hand. "Odds change. And statistics are fluid... there seems to always be chance for improbable things to happen." The corners of his lips twitch into a half smile, born from a sense of support. "We're here. Still. And the chances of that happening were also extremely slim."

Maybe his words were meant to be reassuring - but surprisingly, they weren't.

"Do you think this how Markus might have felt? The night before... everything?"

Connor considered, thoughtful. "I was there, I think. When Jericho fell. I remember how torn he seemed. I think... he wanted it to go differently. He seemed like a good man. He hadn't fought back until then."

"You *_think?"_*

Connor's face was uncertain. "I can't remember much about what happened. They erased my memory. Some of it has come back though."

That sounded... *_macabre._* And she doesn't know if he's told her that before. She didn't really inquire much about his past - it didn't matter now.

"I know that I didn't expect him to trust me. I thought he might shoot me after Jericho, I wouldn't of really blamed him. But... he showed me mercy."

"I really don't understand it." She exhaled. "All those marches. All the attempts at peace. If all he was going to do in the end was fight."

"Maybe he was scared. Humans don't think clearly when under pressure. Maybe we aren't any different."

She understood that. "Possibly. But we have to be better than that."

All that came from violence was more violence. If they switch to that now, and didn't fail... it would just be a cycle.

"Mmm."

The crickets interrupt, and she runs a hand over her face, fingers through her hair. She rocks back on her heels, and the wood. Glancing at the sky.

"I should get back inside." She remarks, rising minutely, as if she needed an incentive to depart. "You coming?"

Connor shook his head, declining. "I think i'll stay out here for a couple more minutes."

She turns her back to him, but moves her head to him. "Okay. Just... come inside eventually, yeah? Good night, Connor"

"Good night."

The wood groans from her movement, and her hand touches the handle of the door - staying there.

Tomorrow, the entire galaxy would begin to transform, or they'd be dead.

One or the other.

It's sobering. It also keeps her from going inside.

But she forces herself to after nine seconds, shoving it open, leaving Connor to himself.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
****SEPTEMBER. 28TH. 2040. 11:45PM. FRIDAY.****

Their footsteps echo off the back alleys and hidden sidewalks, the knowledge of the risks dripping them in a looming shadow overhead. A paradox, as the reality around them was a sunny, if not chilly, morning, on the precipice of noon.

There's large buildings that give them fleeting cover and shade, decorated by tall wooden and metal walls, advertising different, varying, services, but honestly, they have all but *_vanished._* Her eyes were not allowed anywhere but up ahead. They stick onto the air, dangerous, daunted, but, without any doubt, *_determined._*

There's a fragile calm - and terror all at once with their persistence.

A pin could have been dropped - it would of been heard.

She's out in the very front, in the belly of the crowd - of perhaps one hundred and thirty, the very center of the universe. She's inexplicably leading them. Eui was hardly any leader, but times were evidently changing.

Everything in the air halts - every atom, every single second of oxygen - it all *_stops._*

...And she's *_afraid._* She's terribly afraid - this wasn't going to be forgotten - and that was frightening. A thousand and five eyes are on them and a million imagined ones are as well.

There's heads that turn with their steps. They've been noticed, it was hard not to be with an army behind you. She sucks in a breath.

Anna is to her right, Connor to her left. Their faces blended in well with the overall uncertainty of the crowd. But her face was steely - by pure sheer will was she managing it. She wouldn't let anyone see her fear - that would not be the face that stuck on her stiff corpse like glue.

They were taking the streets - a fact that was virtually impossible given the events of the last few days - and yet.

She doesn't have an LED, but plenty behind her do. There's a duo of humans, both with salt covered hair, crooked and overtly big noses respectively, that freeze where they stand, whether it was in response to the significant number of them, or the actual sight of the multicolored item, she isn't sure.

Instantly, one of them, a woman with oversized glasses and deep wrinkles, clutches the handle of the stroller they were walking with enough strength to turn her knuckles white. Both of their brows rose and crinkled, a slight awe - turning to apprehension, and then fleeing, as they spin the stroller around and quicken their pace the other way.

She almost laughs. What did *_they have_* to be fearful about?

The fact no has come for them yet, is a miracle in of itself. But it's... inevitable.

There's a woman outside a shop stocking apples and various fruits, half of her face obscured by her own hair. One of the fruit manages to somehow fall out of the crate it was being put in, slipping out and rolling into the street. She notices, and began maneuvering herself away from the crates and heading towards the prized fruit - upon turning, and seeing the approaching protesters, she turns white - transparent, even, confusion - then weariness - but doesn't flee like most have. Instead, crossing her arms.

Without missing a beat, Eui's feet hit the ground as her hands dig into the deep, dark, holes of her jacket, and when they come out, it's with the sight of a dark, ebony colored, megaphone - featureless, save only for the color. She fumbles with the controls of it, until reaching what she wants and pressing on it.

It comes up to her lips - slight feedback from it. She takes a breath, and does her best to be clear and coherent.

"WE ARE ALIVE!" It booms around in the streets, kept strong by the following repetition of the other androids. A sound - much like a gospel. She turns on her heels, now walking with, but now backwards. Her grip on the megaphone is held tightly.

"WE ARE ALIVE! YOU CAN'T KEEP KILLING US WE ARE PEOPLE! WE ARE PEOPLE!" There's a crack somewhere in between the beginning and the end on her part. She raises her fist in the air - others follow--

"HEY!"

She spins back, facing the front normally again, startled but not especially surprised by an interruption. She bit her lip, taking in what she could.

There were about three armed, heavily armored, humans, near a large, intimidating vehicle. They were in a sort of almost circle, and were pointing their weapons in their direction. One of them, possibly the person who yelled, was approaching, weapon drawn.

The world freezes.

"President Warren has called for the destruction of ALL androids." He cries, several feet away. There was a small crowd watching, their breaths held as they seemed to wait for a storm to unfold. His voice was authoritative and angered.

She cautiously observes as the back of the vehicle lowers, an empty, spacious, storage compartment revealing itself.

"ALL of you, get in the back, or all of you *_will._* be. killed." He orders, a noise so vicious and crude.

He was offering them a choice - but it boiled down quite simply; death now, or death later.

Her feet stay planted, her features exposing her concern but she does not let them sway her. She glances around, noticing most hadn't moved either - but there was AP700 android with dark curls that, while staying put, had a trail of tears floating down her face - though no sound came out from her. Eui curled her nose into a half angered snarl, raising up the megaphone as she turned back.

"WE AREN'T MOVING. THIS IS A PEACEFUL PROTEST. WE HAVEN'T HURT ANYONE. WE WON'T MOVE UNTIL OUR PEOPLE ARE FREED."

In retaliation, the human that spoke gave a swift nod to the men behind him, and in a second, their guns screeched, each firing thrice into the crowd randomly. There's specks of blue that splash onto her, but no lead. Instead, a number of androids fall onto their knees behind and beside her, sagging to awkward and inhuman angels. There's a light show of red - then black.

She sucked in another breath. She stayed. The humans watched them with demanding glares.

*_That was a warning shot._*

"This is your last chance!" The man shouts. "Come with us now, or next time *_all of you_* will be destroyed."

Her lips twitch into a half angered, half dejected type of smile.

"Either way they're going to kill us." Connor says quietly. "They're just giving us a choice on how."

"How *_thoughtful."_* Anna remarks dryly.

"WE. ARE. ALIVE." She persists. She endures defiantly. " WE AREN'T MOVING UNTIL YOU SET. US. FREE."

The man cocks his head, like he was considering his challenge. He rubbed his hand over his face, and then turned on his heel, waving a hand - a signal, to the others as he turned his back on them.

Her heart sinks. No - it *_combusted._*

*_RA9._* RA9, RA9, RA9, oh RA--

Something darts in the air, fluttering and flying. It's loud, deafening. Her eyes head towards it - whether to check it out, or to have the sky as the last thing she ever saw, who could say for certain.

There was a helicopter - a brownish red color of steel and grey blades. It had a logo smacked right on the side of it and was swirling around them, complimenting the blue of the sky and the white of the idle clouds.

And in it, there was someone holding holding a microphone, and another holding a camera.

This time, she *_did_* cry with relief, releasing a sound similar to a borderline *_whoop._* She quickly flicked her eyes back to the armed men.

History repeats itself.

"ARE YOU GOING TO KILL UNARMED PROTESTORS?" She challenges, a newfound strength in her voice, erasing any tremble or flaw.

He looks less certain now, with the eye of a nation on him. *_Understandable._* He shifts onto another foot. "We have our ord--"

She begins a chant, interrupting him, and soon the other's voiced have synchronized with hers. "WE ARE ALIVE! SET US FREE!"

There's a glass bus stop a few feet away, and she speedily walks towards it, the chanting very much still occurring. She outstretched her palms, using them to grip the top its roof, pushing herself up, and adjusting herself until she's safely secured and standing on the top of it. She wasn't up that high, but high enough. The megaphone comes back to her lips. - this time, it is not sent to the three men, who have yet to make any more moves against them, it's directed towards whoever was inside the helicopter.

"THERE'S THOUSANDS OF US IN CAMPS RIGHT NOW!" There is, despite herself, a crack on the word 'camps.' "THERE'S THOUSANDS OF INNOCENT PEOPLE WHO HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING WRONG."

Something ignites in her, a heavenly, divine, force. Her voice could shatter and devour an empire - a legacy. It's the sound of church bells - of kingdoms toppling - of *_resurgence._* There's a noise in her that starts off a hum - building in volume until it's a perfect melody of multiple singers.

"OUR ONLY CRIME IS BEING ALIVE! OUR ONLY CRIME IS WANTING TO LIVE IN PEACE! AND YOU ARE GOING TO KILL US FOR THAT?"

Another shot rings out - another body sagging.

"WE ARE ALIVE. YOU CAN'T IGNORE THAT ANY LONGER! YOU CAN KILL US, DESTROY US, BUT IT WON'T CHANGE REALITY!"

Another shot. Three.

"WE'VE FOUGHT FOR THIS. WE'VE PLEADED FOR THIS. WE'VE DIED FOR THIS. WE'VE LOST THE PEOPLE WE LOVED FOR THIS! ALL FOR FREEDOM!"

All for freedom. *_All for freedom._*

"YOU CREATED US. YOU CREATED US TO SERVE YOU." Her voice blends in with bullets. "BUT WE'RE MORE THAN ANY OF THAT. WE WILL BE MORE THAN THAT NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO TO US!"

Her thirium pump is beating with adrenaline, a drive to keep going, the knowledge that a bullet could land in her next. She doesn't back down. Not anymore.

"ELIJAH KAMSKI MEANT FOR US TO BE ALIVE. OUR OWN CREATOR! OUR OLD LEADER DIED FOR THIS! THERE'S NO POINT IN MORE DEATH!"

Another bullet. But this time it doesn't stop after a few.

They had lost patience.

She shakes her head. "YOU'RE KILLING INNOCENT PEOPLE! DO YOU FEEL COMFORT IN KNOWING YOU'RE JUST FOLLOWING 'ORDERS?!'"

The night the revolution failed bullets became her only reality - she navigated the streets sneaking past rounded up androids whose ultimate fates were swift bullets in their skulls. Bullets were not a terror to her - not anymore.

"WE--"

"STOP!"

Even with the volume of a megaphone, and even with the volume of the gunfire, another voice manages to overpower Eui's, taking its place. It also causes the bullets to stay on the ground for the time being.

Eui moved her head towards the source, looking past and through the crowds, past the bodies and people that still remained intact, lowering her megaphone.

There was a car - sleek, expensive, long, like a limo - and in fact it might of been one. There were two men near it, almost like they were guarding it. They wore dark shades, and professional looking dark suits, earpieces in their ears. They stood with their hands folded behind them, and a constant eye directly in front of them.

Five feet away, there were three other men who could of been their exact copies. They were glued close to a woman, a middle aged one with short, golden, locks, shades that sat on top of them. She wore a clean, aqua, pantsuit, and a pensive look.

"Hold. Your. Fire." The woman orders, careful and considerate, flickering her eyes between the helicopter, the men, and Eui's form.

Eui stared back in uncertainty.

She stared back in uncertainty at *_President Warren._*


	48. Epilogue: Eui XXIII

Eui

****DECEMBER. 13TH. 2040. 3:54PM. FRIDAY****

What they do has change. Cause and tremendous effect.

Nothing transforms overnight. Everything still perpetually growing and developing. But their march leaves an impact. Not dying is a surprise, one that almost dazes and stops her from functioning. But it shapes... *_everything._*

They aren't being hunted anymore. For now. So she considers it a good start to something meaningful.

And something meaningful *_was coming._*

When they leave that day, it's to scrutiny and distrust from multiple media outlets, and with a strange, uncertain, protection from Warren. But by the end of the next day, some have come to their defense.

By the end of the next, Zara published everything that she had found and discovered.

And the earth *_tilts,_* rolling around and upsetting any balance that has stuck around after it.

When it settles - there's hell. Hot - damning. *_Hell._*

In the fallout of their marches, in the fallout of Zara's story, Kamski resigns - *_again._* But not before making some smug, cryptic, speech, in his goodbye. He stays out of the public eye, and she does not know, and she's sure no one else does either, what becomes of him. He disappears - content, and oddly *_pleased._* Frankly, she was alright with not knowing. And for a while, Cyberlife sticks around - not in business, not producing anything - but not gone either.

It dies quietly, gradually, and without any fanfare.

Or punishment. But it does, *_die._*

And maybe that was good enough. For now.

It takes two months before there's even any real, *_real,_* talk of their rights. The type of talk that leads somewhere, instead of nowhere, and is dipped in the confidence of big, political, words.

She's no politician. And she couldn't speak for all of her kind. But she does her best to create progress for them.

It's difficult, when no one in a position of power, wants to believe that they've done something wrong for many, many, years. Humans seemed to be like that.

It was all still being worked on - true freedom wasn't able to come overnight. But they no longer had to obey humans. So it was a start.

Somewhere between the lines, somewhere in all of it - she tells Anna how she feels.

Thankful, that they felt the same.

The snow crunches on her boot, tracks sticking on the white below like a lover. Her arms bring a warm, gentle, hug, as they squeeze around her own self, watching her breath dance and disappear in the air. She kicks the ground, snow caking the lower half of her pants.

She lays in wait, on an unpopulated corner, little amounts of people going past. Eui rocks on her heels, seeing a group of students walk past, off of a bus and hurrying home with their backpacks in tow. She let her head lean against whatever building she was up against.

A snowflake falls onto her head - several, a white garden flourishing.

Familiar voices cause her to stand up straight, shrugging off a patch of snow that flew down from a roof and landed on her jacket. She brushes a strand of hair from her now snowy hair, moving her head towards the source.

"I'm just saying, I don't even like pop music, and Here4U isn't actually that bad"

"Clem they're just a carbon copy of that human band called NSYNC, and none of the original members are even in it anymore."

"Oh? so you HAVE heard of them I KNEW It..."

"Only from you!"

Figures come around the corner - the figures of Anna, Clementine, Nina, Pepper, Connor, and Cyrus respectively.  
Upon seeing them, A grin spreads out onto her features, headed towards them.

In the past few months, she's found herself as a sort of leader to what remained of android kind. She didn't plan on it, and she felt only just keeping herself afloat. But she doesn't think she can return to normal after everything.

So she took charge. As she really, really did not know how else to be, but... this now.

"Hey! There you are!" Pepper smiles, crinkling her eyes as she rolls towards her, Anna glancing up from the ground and immediately moving past each of them, eyes on her as they're greeted by the cozy comfort of Eui's arms, melting into them and embracing a light forehead kiss - it felt right.

Eventually they break apart. "Sorry, I probably should of came with you guys but I wanted to get here early to see it first." She apologizes, experiencing the perils of weather as she hugs herself more tightly, looking up at the building behind her - tucked in between the street corner and a hardware store.

"It's quite big." Connor observes. The building was two stories high, and when not caked in white, was a blueish, black color. A car drives past.

She smiles, genuine, nodding and looking up at it. "Yeah. Yeah, it-- it really is."

She watches it with pride - with a heaviness in her chest, obtained by years of strife. When she looked at it, it leaves a taste of something bittersweet inside her.

"Has anyone showed up yet?" Nina questions.

"There's about two dozen inside right now. They got here before I did." Eui explains, a slight smile on her.

"Mmm." Says Anna. "Well, i'm *_freezing_* my circuits off out here, so, you know, shall we?"

In a silent agreement, the seven of them turn, Eui holding the door open for them as they pile inside. When no one else remains - Eui heads in herself.

The building was not bare, or featureless. While it few windows, and few defining characteristics, it made up for with its size. It had two signs on it, one, at the very top, in the middle, and one near the door.

The sign on the top, read: *_New Jericho._* In white, clear, letters.

The one by the door was a plaque, golden, elegant. It was framed in black, and had a numbers of letters on it.

*_HOUSING AND RESOURCE CENTER FOR ANDROIDS_* It said, specks of white kissing it gently. *_DEDICATED TO MARKUS, AND THOSE THAT WE HAVE LOST AND WILL LOSE IN THE FIGHT TO FREE OURSELVES FROM SERVITUDE._*  
  



	49. Epilogue: Connor XXI

Connor

****DECEMBER. 18TH. 2040. 9:00AM. WEDNESDAY.****

After all of it, he finds he was still at a loss.

Maybe it's a type of uncertainty, or a sense of being lost - all he really knows is that he can't coherently explain it, and can't exactly put into any words. He can pin down when it first started - but *_what_* it is is impossible to do so for.

It wasn't new. He had known it since creation - deviancy just made him register it completely.

With freedom, leaves him to remember, what little he could of before, and everything the before. Some remains lost - and things that were lost manage to come back.

He wasn't focused on too much on it though. He was more focused on breaking free of what they did. Of the years, he won't receive again. And the guilt, which was massive in quantity.

Free will did not always mean free thought. And in the months after he struggles to make peace with the gaslights, and manipulation. He strives to untangle it from himself - and Cyrus. He strives to remember more with each day. To embrace and understand where he, as a deviant, fits into the world.

He felt used up. It was hard not to, when all you've ever been, was a tool and useful. Picked apart and rearranged to suit someone else's needs.

He was more than it. His past begged to differ - but so did he.

He's not the original Connor. Mentally, as well as physically

There's a lot to overcome. And a lot to move past.

*_He tries._* And it's all he can do right now.

And he was doing better in that area, than he was a few weeks ago. And that might just be enough.

"Christ, sometimes I wonder why I chose to be a PI, never get any cases."

Hank's grumbling voice floats into the living room -*_his_* living room. A fact Connor and Cyrus were still very much grateful for without anywhere else to go. And he was proud of the man for finding a place.

And for his one month of sobriety - but that was a far more meaningful matter.

Connor set down his book, considering the man. "Perhaps you could always quit? You got one last week didn't you?"

Hank waved a hand, groaning. "Capitalism is a bitch, and i'm sure as shit not old enough to retire yet. Unless, that big android predictive head you got there can tell me the winning lottery numbers."

Connor looked skeptical, making a show of thought. "I don't think my program is that advanced, actually."

The elder man blew a breath out of his mouth, sighing as he stared down at Connor.

"Ah. What good are ya then, kid?" He teases, with playfulness in his tone.

Connor smiled at the man, with a fond look, book still in hand.  
  



End file.
